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'iff “ X 





GREAT DIANA OF THE EPHESIANS 





ONESIMUS: 

CHRIST’S FREEDMAN 

A Tale of the Pauline Epistles 


BY 


/ 


CHARLES EDWARD CORWIN 


“ ’ Tis liberty alone that gives the Jlow'r, 

Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume. 
And we are weeds without it .'* — Cowper. 



Fleming H. Revell Company 


Chicago 


New York 

V.I.R. 


Toronto 



5dHG7 , 

Library of Cony re^a 

Two Copies Received 

OCT 11 1900 

CopKJigiit ejitry 

0 . \ CM\ 0 . 

No.^.v.^.V.ti.CNS 
FIRST COPY, 

2fMj Coj^y DelivMffid to [ 

ORDER DIVISION 
-QOT 1 fi iQnn 



% 


COPYRIGHT, 1900. BY 
FLEMING H, REVELL COMPANY 


TO MY WIFE 
WHO IS MY 
INSPIRATION 













PREFACE 


To the historical student in general, and to the 
student of Church history in particular, few epochs 
of the world’s life are of more interest than the first 
Christian century. The former is surprised to dis- 
cover a new and regenerating force at work amid 
the corrupted mass of ancient civilization. The 
latter is pleased to examine the early growth of that 
tree whose branches now shade the earth. 

The first century of our era was profoundly dark. 
Politics, philosophy and religion had developed 
for millenniums and had attained their maturity. 
Lo, their fruit was tyranny, agnosticism and super- 
stition. The best of men could climb no higher; 
the worst of men could fall no lower. Stagnation, 
death, corruption, were the result. And yet that 
century witnessed the rising of the world’s great 
Light, of whom a famous unbeliever has said, 
“Whatever may be the surprises of the future, Jesus 
will never be surpassed. ’ ’ 

As the Light arose it shone into the darkness; 
and while the valleys of humanity were still in 
noisome shade, the mountain tops were kindled with 
the glory of the dawn. Therefore that time was a 
period of the greatest contrasts. The Son of God 
stood face to face with demons. The miracles of 
divine grace found their caricature in the tricks of 

9 


lO 


PREFACE 


the magician. Characters such as Paul and Nero 
grew side by side. 

This little volume has been written to reveal the 
contrast between the light and darkness ; and 
against this background it has been the author’s 
purpose to portray the picture of a soul struggling 
after freedom, and struggling in vain until he finds 
it in Christ. 

Onesimus, the hero of this tale, will be recognized 
as the slave of Philemon, the Christian householder 
whose hospitality provided a meeting-place for the 
Church at Colosse. The slave had stolen from his 
master and escaped to Rome. There Paul found 
him and he was converted. And thence the apostle 
sent him back to his master, “no longer as a serv- 
ant, but above a servant, a brother beloved. ’ ’ On 
his journey from Rome to Colosse, Onesimus bore 
the epistle which is known by Philemon’s name. 
He was also accompanied by Tychicus, to whom 
were intrusted the epistles to the Colossians and 
Ephesians. The latter was probably a circular 
letter addressed to several churches, and may be 
the epistle to the Laodiceans mentioned in Col. 
4:16. Archippus was bishop of Colosse at this time, 
and it was in the house of Nymphas that the Church 
of Laodicea met. Philemon 2. Colossians 4: 15 
and 4:17. 

Apollonius of Tyana, who appears in the sixth 
chapter, was one of the greatest magicians of a 
magic-loving age. He returned from a journey to 
the East and was proclaimed a god in the theater 
at Ephesus at about the time that Paul was laboring 


PREFACE 


II 


there. Most of the other characters will be recog- 
nized as real persons, the friends or foes of Paul. 

The scenes, which are laid at Ephesus, are par- 
allel with the nineteenth chapter of the Acts of the 
Apostles. 

The author has endeavored to make the story true 
to the times, and there is hardly an allusion to a 
custom or circumstance for which there does not 
exist classical authority. The New Testament 
critic will surely pardon, in a work of this character, 
the treatment of disputed facts as certain. And 
now, with the hope that the book may attain its 
purpose, this little bird of the imagination is allowed 
to escape from its cage. 

Greendale, N. Y., April 19th, 1900. 


CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

I. The Home at Colosse 13 

II. The School of Tyrannus .... 26 

III. Student Life in Ephesus 41 

IV. The Grain of Mustard Seed . . . 55 

V. The Eve of the Festival . . . .67 

VI. Great is Diana of the Ephesians . . 82 

VII. Venus in the Groves of Diana . . .82 

VIII. One View-Point 108 

IX. Another Point of View 119 

X. Awakened Love 128 

XI. Awakened Hate ...... 142 

XII. What Hath God Wrought? . . . 157 


XHI. This Sickness is not unto Death but for the 


’ Glory of God 169 

XIV. The Spider’s Web 189 

• XV. So Mightily Grew the Word of God and 

Prevailed 202 

XVI. The Uproar in the Theater . . . 220 

XVII. The Hawk and the Dove 230 

XVIH. Parting Ways 249 

XIX. Eastern Filth and Roman Springs . . . 260 

XX. The Freedman Turns Slave .... 273 

XXL Old Faces and New Scenes . . . .285 

XXII. The Darkness Before the Dawn . . 297 

XXIII. Freedom at Last 306 

XXIV. At Colosse Once More .... 320 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


Great Diana of the Ephesians .... Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 


Fragments of Columns from the Temple of Diana . . 94 

View of the Remains of the Stadium of Ephesus . 10 1 

Site of Ephesus from the East 157 

Coin of Ephesus 

Coin of Ephesus representing Temple of Diana > . 202 

Ephesian Letters ; 

Theater of Ephesus in its present state . . . .226 

The Hall of Justice 279 

View of Chonas, Ancient Colosse 326 














O N E S I M U S 


CHAPTER I 

THE HOME AT COLOSSE 

“A letter for the lady Apphia from her son 
Archippus. ’ ’ 

The lady thus addressed eagerly took the roll 
from the hand of the lowly-bowing slave, broke the 
seal, and began to read. While she peruses her 
letter we shall have time to glance at the room and 
its occupants. 

It was a long, low room, dimly lighted, for the 
heavy lattice shutters were closed to keep out the 
autumn breeze blowing strong from the Phrygian 
hills. The floor was paved with tiles and the walls 
were of stone. It would have been an uncomfort- 
able place for a lady’s sitting room, had it not been 
warmed by the abundance of richly-colored rugs 
and crimson cushions spread on the floor and piled 
along the wall. Other signs of luxury were not 
lacking, for divans and carved chairs were scattered 
about, while a marble statue of Venus, arising from 
the sea, stood in one corner. A chest of drawers 
and a bronze lamp-stand completed the furnishings 
of the apartment. Through the open door we be- 
13 


14 


ONESIMUS 


hold a court, flooded with sunlight, from which the 
sound of spinning and the hum of female voices is 
borne to our ear. 

The lady Apphia reclined upon one of the divans, 
arrayed in a garment of spotless white clasped at 
the shoulder with a golden fastening, and girt at 
the waist with an enameled girdle. Her hair, whose 
dark abundance was already streaked with gray, 
proclaimed her past middle life ; but her dark eye 
shone with a bright light, and her smooth forehead 
and finely-cut features proclaimed her nationality. 
Such a cast of countenance had Grecian Helen, 
for the possession of whom the Trojan war was 
waged ; and although the noble Apphia was a resi- 
dent of Colosse, in Asia Minor, her birthplace could 
have been nowhere else than in lovely Greece. 

By the door stood the bearer of the letter, a young 
man clad in a leathern tunic, and shod with travel- 
ing boots laced tight to the knee. He could not 
have been more than twenty, but his face was traced 
with the lines of sensualism, and his eyes glanced 
furtively from under his heavy brows, seeing all, 
but never remaining long on one object 

The lady Apphia looked up and said, “Does your 
master yet know of your arrival, Onesimus?” 

“No, mistress, for I hastened straight to your 
apartment, because the letter was addressed to you. “ 

“A letter from our son is his as well as mine. 
Call him. ’ ’ 

In a moment the master entered, while the slave 
stood again by the door. 

“Philemon, Archippus is well and happy and 


THE HOME AT COLOSSE 


15 


rejoices to study under so skilled a sophist as 
Tyrannus,” exclaimed the lady, as she thrust into 
her husband’s hand the letter she had just read. 
Philemon read aloud : 

To my mother Apphia, from her son' Archippus, greeting: — 
It seems much more than three weeks since I crossed the Lycus 
on the old stone bridge, and realized that my childhood days 
were past and that the great world was before me. 

Nymphas and his slave, Manes, were ready to start as soon 
as we reached Laodicea. In his pleasant company the journey 
was rapidly made along the banks of the winding Maeander, 
while the great range of Tmolus, at first almost before us, 
seemed to pass to our right and then to fall behind. We passed 
the first night of our journey at Carian Antioch, and the second 
was spent beneath the stars at the place where our road turned 
into the great way from Miletus to Ephesus. Manes, assisted 
by Onesimus, provided excellent meals, and we ate them with 
the traveler’s appetite. Tell Menodora, however, that nothing 
tasted as good as the cakes, which my little sister gave me 
amid her tears at parting. I felt homesick indeed when I had 
eaten the last one. 

On the morning of the third day we turned northward 
through the pass, and the city of Diana was before us. When 
I was at Ephesus with father, years ago, the sight of the fine 
buildings impressed me most ; but now the thought came upon 
me that in Ephesus is wisdom, the mingled wisdom of Asia and 
Greece, and that within the walls of Diana I too should attain 
to a knowledge of “the beautiful and the good.’’ 

We entered the city by the Magnesian gate, and were soon 
at the lodgings which Nymphas had engaged. They are not 
large, but richly furnished and central to all places of interest. 
Mount Coressus is behind us, and our door looks out upon the 
forum and the great gymnasium beyond. It is only a short 
distance to the stadium and the Coressian gate, through which 
the road leads to the temple of the great goddess. Baths and 
wine-shops are at hand. 

Nymphas rents our chambers from an old Jew, named Alex- 


i6 


ONESIMUS 


ander, who deals in silver, gold and copper on the Sacred Way 
of Diana. 

The day after our arrival we went to the school of Tyrannus, 
which is not far from Alexander’s shop. He received us gra- 
ciously, as became a sophist, complimented Nymphas on his 
desire for wisdom, even though surrounded by all the pleasures 
which wealth affords. I noticed, however, that he eagerly 
counted the coins I paid in advance for instruction, as though 
the attainment of wisdom had not decreased his own desire for 
gain. 

The first day we assembled in his school, he told us that 
absolute truth was beyond the ability of man to obtain, but that 
the purpose of all philosophy was to find the relative good most 
necessary for man. Some philosophers, as Epicurus, had 
declared this good to consist in personal enjoyment, while 
others, as Zeno, had sought it in harmony with nature. At 
present, he said, the tendency of each philosopher is to find the 
gems in the writings of all his predecessors, leaving the rest to 
the devotees of each system. His purpose is to explain the 
systems of all, allowing us to choose the one we prefer; or to 
do as he himself does, adopt something from each, the whole of 
none. He accordingly is lecturing at present on the idea of 
deity in the human mind, even seeking for truth concerning 
the first cause in the priestly mysteries of Egypt We also 
study history and rhetoric, and practice daily in the gym- 
nasium. 

There are several young men with whom I have become 
somewhat acquainted, and I shall enjoy life better as my 
acquaintance increases. 

Onesimus is not as useful as Manes, the slave of Nymphas; 
and while I am in school he spends most of his time in the 
wine-shops gossiping with the other slaves. 

I am looking forward with pleasure to the great feast of 
Diana, when father, mother and sister, and so many friends 
from dear old Colosse will visit Ephesus and I shall see them 
all again. 

And so farewell. Your son. 


ARCHIPPUS. 


THE HOME AT COLOSSE 


17 


As Philemon began to read this letter, the figure 
of a young girl appeared in the doorway, and passing 
by the waiting slave, she quietly seated herself on 
the cushion at Apphia’s feet. She too was dressed 
in a garment of wool as white as snow, loosely 
gathered about her slender form, leaving the white 
arms bare. 

As she looked up into the face of Philemon, his 
own seemed to be reflected in hers ; for the kindly 
gray eyes, the rosy cheeks, the full red lips of the 
elderly man were retraced in smaller and more 
beautiful lines under her wealth of golden hair. 

She must be her father’s child, showing like him, 
descent, not from the heroes of Attica, her mother’s 
native land, but from the fair- skinned shepherds of 
the Euxine coasts. 

“O mother,” broke in the girlish voice as the 
father ceased his reading, “I am sure Archippus 
will become a great sophist and bring honor to us 
all in the schools of Ephesus. Maybe when he has 
learned everything, and his fame is spread abroad, 
he may teach in Athens or even go to Rome. ’ ’ 

“The gods have granted you a wise brother, Men- 
odora, ’ ’ replied Apphia, ‘ ‘ and I doubt not we shall 
all be proud of him.” 

“I am glad the boy is fond of study,” observed 
the father, “for in these days it is the philosopher 
who makes money as well as fame. Only to-day I 
was talking with the wool merchants who brought in 
their stock from Bithynia, and they say that busi- 
ness has never been worse since the days of our 
fathers in the Roman wars. 


i8 


ONESIMUS 


“There was a rumor of the death of Claudius 
Caesar in the agora to-day which disquieted trade 
somewhat. 

“Theron came to me during the morning and 
asked concerning the school of Tyrannus, and I told 
him what I knew of it and my reasons for sending 
Archippus there.” 

“Who is Theron?” said Apphia. 

“He is a merchant in scarlet goods, lately come 
from Thyatira, and I suppose he is considering the 
education of his son Epaphras,” replied Phile- 
mon. 

“Onesimus, you lazy slave,” said the master, 
turning quickly towards the door, “the sun is low 
and the hands have ceased work. You may go to 
the slaves’ quarters for the night, and to-morrow I 
will send you back to Ephesus. It is not fitting that 
Archippus should be left without any attendant. ’ ' 

Onesimus, thus addressed, bowed low and passed 
into the court. 

A large open space it was, paved with stone, with 
a tank of water in the center. On each side were 
the walls of the one-storied, flat-roofed house; the 
doors and windows of which were arranged without 
apparent order. Under a kind of projecting roof at 
one end were piled great heaps of wool, and six or 
seven female slaves were just putting away their 
daily task. 

“Ah, my Stephanion, I have seen more beautiful 
girls than you on my journey,” said the young man 
in a low tone, as he passed close to a young slave 
girl, who blushed angrily and turned away. 


THE HOME AT COLOSSE 


19 


It was no place for dalliance, this entrance to the 
woman’s court, with the master and mistress in the 
room at the side, and so Onesimus passed through a 
dark, low passage, and entered another court very 
similar to the one he had just left. 

This was the court of the men. On its left was 
the apartment of the master, while the slaves’ quar- 
ters were on the right. These Onesimus entered 
and found himself in a chamber, or rather series of 
chambers, dimly lighted from the doors into the 
court. 

The place was destitute of furniture, unless a long 
stone seat on one side and a few blocks of stone 
scattered about could be called such. At one end a 
fire was burning on a brazier, over which hung a 
large pot, the steaming contents of which was dili- 
gently stirred by an old slave. 

Two slaves, seated on the ground, were playing 
at dice, while several others were grinding com for 
their evening meal in small hand-mills. 

“By Bacchus!’’ cried one player, “a good throw. 
The coat is mine. ’ ’ 

“Hercules break my back if I give you another 
chance to leave me naked at this season of the 
year!’’ exclaimed the loser. 

“Ah, there; you back?’’ said a slave, looking up 
from his mill as the form of Onesimus appeared in 
the entrance. “I suppose you will be too fine to 
work with ordinary slaves after playing attendant 
on the master’s son.’’ 

“He never was with us when it came to work,” 
said another, without even raising his eyes. “I 


20 


ONESIMUS 


wonder if he has his tunic full of coppers wheedled 
from Archippus. ’ ’ 

“More likely it is full of stolen gold,” was the 
answer. 

“By Venus, he would have spent it all before this 
in sweets for his little Stephanion,” replied the first 
speaker. 

“Now I bet my next tunic!” exclaimed the slave 
who had just lost his only coat at dice, “that he has 
found another girl by this time in Ephesus. ’ ’ 

Onesimus flushed at these remarks, and perhaps 
would have struck the nearer of his mockers, had 
not the old slave looked up from the caldron and 
said, “Now boys, the master has forbidden all quar- 
reling. It will mean twenty lashes to every one 
who strikes a blow. ’ ’ Thus saying, he poured out 
the broth into earthen bowls and prepared to bake 
cakes, of the meal just ground, on the hearth. 

The slaves fell eagerly at their supper, and with 
the warmth and satisfaction of the food a pleasanter 
spirit came among them, and they listened willingly 
while Onesimus told them of his past journey and 
future prospects. 

“You are a lucky fellow to be made an attendant 
on the master’s son,” said one, when Onesimus had 
said that he was to return to Ephesus immediately. 
“Archippus is a very good master.” 

“Good or bad I hate him and his,” replied Onesi- 
mus, “and I shall do as little service for him as 
possible.” 

“Thankless dog of a slave!” broke in the old man 
who had so far been silent during the meal; “who 


THE HOME AT COLOSSE 


21 


was it but the master who bought you in the market 
so sick that the dealer thought to kill you? Archip- 
pus himself, a boy of your own age, came to nurse 
you, and even the noble Apphia made you broth 
with her own hand. Rather thank the gods that you 
have a good master, and be content with an easy 
life.” 

The remarks elicited approval from the others, 
but Onesimus muttered something about his free- 
dom, and lapsed into a gloomy silence. Evidently 
he was one of those who prefer a hard freedom to 
an easy bondage. 

Soon the supper was ended and the slaves, one by 
one, unrolled the rugs which had lain concealed 
against the wall, and lay down, each wrapped in his 
own covering before the fire. 

The flame died away. The light of the glowing 
embers cast fantastic shadows on the wall and 
became dim. Sleep reigned. 

While the slaves were preparing their evening 
meal, the master of the house was awaiting his 
supper in his wife’s apartment. 

In the old days of gods and heroes it was consid- 
ered an honor for the mistress of the mansion to 
prepare the food for her husband. But although 
the increase in the number of slaves, and the growth 
of luxury had rendered the custom obsolescent, the 
lady Apphia prided herself on her skill in cookery, 
and the beautiful Menodora was carefully trained in 
the art. So while Philemon sat before a glowing 
brazier which his body servant. Castor, had brought 
in, engaged in calculations on the price of wool and 


12 


ONESIMUS 


hoping for an increased demand for the fabrics of 
his looms, Apphia and Menodora were preparing 
supper in the court. Fine fish, captured that morn- 
ing in the swift- flowing Lycus, simmered above a 
fire of coals. The white hands of Apphia kneaded 
the dough for barley cakes, and Menodora prepared 
a paste of figs, boiled in honey. 

Mother and daughter sat by content, while the 
father ate heartily, and when he had finished and 
they also had eaten, Menodora brought out her lyre 
from its place, and to its accompaniment sang the 
songs of the inspired Sappho. 

“Your song makes me think of Archippus,’’ said 
Apphia, “he was ever fond of music. I hope that 
he may find friends and home comfort in the distant 
city. He was always so home loving.” 

“I wonder who will make cakes for him and mix 
his wine,” sighed Menodora. “He used to say that 
no one could do it like his little sister. ’ ’ 

“Don’t worry about the boy,” said Philemon, “he 
is twenty now, and able to take care of himself. To 
brush with the world will do him good, and he has 
Nymphas with him anyway.” 

“Yes, that is a comfort,” replied the mother, 
“Nymphas is four or five years his senior, and his 
acquaintance with life and natural gravity will be a 
great help to our Archippus. ’ ’ 

“Well do I remember the first day I ever met his 
father,” mused Philemon; “it was in the first or 
second year of the two hundred and first Olympiad. 
I was a young man then and had gone to Laodicea 
on business. A distinguished looking stranger 


THE HOME AT COLOSSE 


23 


accosted me in the market, and said he had recently 
come from Corinth to buy wool for export. He had 
heard me praised as a man of skill and integrity, 
and he desired to engage me as his agent at 
Colosse. 

‘ ‘ By the favor of the gods, that was the beginning 
of an acquaintance profitable to each of us, and soon 
to ripen into lasting friendship. Many a merry 
feast have I enjoyed at his house, and it was at one 
of them, that he, all smiles, presented to his guests 
a new-born son. ’ ’ 

“Was that Nymphas?” asked Menodora. 

“Yes, my child, that was your brother’s compan- 
ion. Jupiter grant that he may prove as true a 
friend to him as his father was to me. Poor boy, he 
was early deprived of his parents. The elder 
Nymphas and his wife embarked for Rome at the 
port of Ephesus. The ship touched at Athens four 
days later, and then all were well. Alas, it was the 
fall of the year and voyaging was dangerous. That 
was more than ten years ago and not one word has 
been heard of them since. ’ ’ 

“Oh how dreadful!’’ exclaimed Menodora, “Diana 
forbid that Archippus should ever tempt the fury of 
Neptune! 

“But what did poor Nymphas do?’’ 

“His father had left his estate in care of his slave 
Manes, the most faithful creature that ever I saw, 
worth his weight in gold. He managed the prop- 
erty so honestly and skillfully that when Nymphas 
came of age not an oblos had been lost. He is now 
the master of a fine estate and a host of slaves, but 


24 


ONESIMUS 


he has no near kinsman, at least none with whom he 
is acquainted; for his father had been a great 
traveler and had lost track of his family. Manes is, 
however, of more value to him than ten brethren ; 
and the faithful fellow actually prefers to accom- 
pany his young master to Ephesus as a body serv- 
ant, rather than to remain without him as the 
steward of the house at Laodicea.” 

“It is rather strange,” remarked Apphia, “that 
Nymphas should care to begin study at his age, and 
with his estate to engross his attention.’ ’ 

“The boy is proud, and ambitious to make up for 
the days he lost in his youth,” answered Philemon. 

“Oh, how long will it be before we see Archip- 
pus?” broke in Menodora, changing the subject. 

“If you are a good girl you and your mother shall 
attend Diana’s festival in early summer and then 
you will see him.” 

“Let me see, that is five, six, nearly seven 
months. Oh, it seems as if I could hardly wait that 
long to see him, and the groves of the great Diana!” 

“The time will pass rapidly enough,” said the 
mother, kissing her daughter’s forehead. “Be a 
good girl and go to bed now. ’ ’ 

Long after her parents had sunk to rest, in her 
own little chamber, tastefully furnished, Menodora 
sat, robed for the night, beside her bed. The room 
was dimly lighted by a waxen taper burning before 
a silver shrine of the great goddess Diana. Meno- 
dora sank on her knees before the image, her fair 
hair falling over her like a mantle. 

“O great Diana, sprung from Jupiter, hear the 


THE HOME AT COLOSSE 


25 


prayer of one who has never let the taper burn out 
before thy shrine ! Grant that my brother, Archip- 
pus, may come to know ‘the beautiful and the good’ 
and that the truth he seeks may be found of him. 
May he bring honor to his father’s house and him- 
self.” 

Thus prayed the beautiful girl, her face and form 
transfigured by her love. 

It was only a heathen prayer, addressed to a silver 
image. But who shall say that He, whom she felt 
after, and who is not far from any seeking soul, 
heard not the prayer, and designed to answer it 
wondrously, above all her thoughts. For already, 
on that autumn night, more than twenty years had 
passed since One had stood in far-off Judea, and 
said, ‘‘Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall 
make you free.” More than twenty years had 
passed since He had said, ‘‘I am the way, the truth 
and the life ; no man cometh unto the Father but 
by me.” 


CHAPTER II 


THE SCHOOL OF TYRANNUS 

A wintry morning had dawned over the city of 
Ephesus. It was a morning of the year 808 A. U. 

C. , the third year of the 208th Olympiad; or, to 
express it in Christian chronology, the year 55 A. 

D. had dawned upon the world. 

The Jew Alexander stood at the door of his shop, 
his round shoulders muffled in his mantle and his 
keen gaze turned in the direction of the great thea- 
ter. Evidently he was awaiting some one. He was 
a little man, but his feet held firmly to the pave- 
ment in spite of the keen wind which came in bitter 
gusts around the corner. So, sometimes, one 
beholds a last year’s leaf, seared and yellow, cling- 
ing tenaciously to its parent stem. About his head 
was twisted a scarlet hood, and he had drawn his 
cloak up until collar and turban nearly met, leaving 
scant space for the appearance of white locks, sal- 
low skin, and small bead-like eyes. His person was 
enveloped from head to foot in a long garment of 
gray, girt at the waist with a silken cord. 

Two young men, clad in philosopher’s cloaks, 
were walking rapidly down the street. Both were 
Greeks, as the dark hair, the regular features, and 
the smooth skin, beneath which the red blood leaped 
at the kiss of the frosty air, proclaimed. The one 
was more mature and taller than his companion. 

26 


THE SCHOOL OF TYRANNUS 


27 


The grace of his carriage showed him to be a man 
whose youth had developed amid scenes of wealth 
and refinement, while the play of the soul’s light 
upon his countenance was the reflection of a bright 
mind and pure heart. The other was more sturdy 
in build, and there was less of thought and more of 
fun shining in his honest eyes. 

“Thinkest thou, my Archippus,” said the older 
of the two, his handsome face lighted with a smile, 
“that thou wilt become another Socrates?” 

“Why so, Nymphas?” replied the other. “Have I 
annoyed you with questions?” 

“Nay, but as Socrates went campaigning through 
the snow, barefoot, thou thinkest to prove the 
superiority of mind to matter by covering thy 
shoulders with a summer mantle this coldest day of 
the year.” 

“Alas,” replied the other, “it is no contempt for 
nature that has so arrayed me. Most of my woolen 
cloaks and mantles are at the fuller’s, and the one 
which I had reserved for to-day has disappeared 
together with that rascally slave, Onesimus. I sup- 
pose that even now he is drinking wine in some 
shop, dressed in the garb of a philosopher. ’ ’ 

“Be not too philosophical in your treatment of 
slaves,” replied Nymphas. “I, who inherited my 
father’s estate in youth, have learned that the surest 
mercy to many is severity. Have the knave sent to 
the slave-whipper and I warrant you he will not 
soon borrow your best mantle again.” 

“Ah, there is my landlord, the Jew, beckoning to 
us across the street. What does he want?” 


28 


ONESIMUS 


The young man looked up to see the bowing form 
of Alexander at his door, and to hear his nasal 
voice saying: 

“My lord Nymphas, and my lord Archippus, upon 
you and yours be peace. Will my lords honor their 
servant for a moment? You have seen me master 
of a copper and bronze shop, ’ ’ continued he, as the 
young men crossed to him, “but recently, business 
being bad, I have opened the gate of my humble 
home as a place of rest and recreation to the young 
men of the schools, and the stranger detained in the 
port while the sea is closed. My wine is of the 
best of Cyprus, and my Rachel, more beautiful than 
Sarah, waits upon my guests. ’ ’ 

“Who is Rachel?” asked Archippus. “Is she a 
new hetaera, just budded?” 

“Now the God of Abraham forbid,” ejaculated 
the old man, “that a daughter of mine should be as 
one of the Gentile hetaera ; for the law of Moses says 
that there shall be none such of the daughters of 
Israel!” 

“We care not for your law or your daughter,” 
interrupted Nymphas. “But, Archippus, since the 
sun is not yet high and time allows, let us see the 
new wine-shop and taste of Alexander’s wine.” 

The Jew bowed low and led the way through a 
door into a court within. Although open to the 
sky, with only a covered veranda on three sides, 
the court was warmer than the street ; for the Asian 
sun shone brightly, and the guests were screened 
from the keen breezes blowing from the .^gean. 
Moreover, a great pile of red-hot charcoal in the 


THE SCHOOL OF TYRANNUS 


29 


midst of the court permeated the atmosphere with 
a gentle warmth. 

The young men stood for a moment at the en- 
trance surveying the scene, and then called for 
wine, which they leisurely drank, seated on a couch 
near the fire. 

“Is it for the birds or for the money?” cried one 
of the group of guests; evidently a Roman by 
his speech and dress; presumably a winter-bound 
passenger on one of the corn-ships in the harbor. 

“I never stake birds,” replied his opponent, “but 
I wager ten drachmae on mine. ’ ’ Thus speaking he 
drew from a large wicker basket a cock, while the 
slave of the young Roman drew from beneath his 
mantle another. 

The spectators formed a circle to watch the bat- 
tle, but Archippus raised his eyes in disgust; for he 
began to realize that Alexander’s wine-palace was 
rather the resort of freedmen and strangers than of 
aristocrats like himself. His gaze fell upon the 
form of the young Jewess, who evidently dealt out 
the wine to the attendants, for she stood cup in 
hand beside several large jars of wine. Perhaps he 
would have languidly admired the graceful form, 
the raven hair, and the dark eyes of the daughter of 
a barbarian race, had not his gaze rested upon 
Onesimus, clad in his master’s mantle, leaning over 
the divan in playful dalliance with the girl. 

“O you dog of a slave!” exclaimed he, advancing 
and seizing him by the coat. “Where were you this 
morning, when I wanted you after my bath? By 
Hercules ! my patience is exhausted, and the beating 


30 


ONESIMUS 


you have deserved this long while, you will have 
to-day. ’ ’ 

Having seized the soft garment from the shoul- 
ders of the slave, he hastily wrote a few words on 
his tablets and, thrusting them into the hands of 
Onesimus, said, “Here, take this to the slave-mar- 
ket, to the corner where the slave-whipper has his 
post — What is his name Nymphas? Yes, Discus, 
that is it, — and when you have learned your lesson, 
come to the school and await me at the door. ’ ’ 

Onesimus put the tablets into the breast of his 
tunic, and with a face in which the flush of wine 
had already spread, deepened in color by anger and 
shame, went out. 

“Come, my Archippus,” said Nymphas, when he 
had gone, “do not show your displeasure in the 
presence of slaves and Euxine pirates. Alexander 
must have fine ideas of our rank and position 
to suppose we are inclined to mingle with the 
rabble.” 

“Tell your father,” said he, turning to the girl, 
who had stood an astonished spectator of the scene, 
“that hereafter we may enjoy his lodgings but not 
his company. ’ ’ 

With these words the two friends passed out. 

The residences of the free inhabitants more and 
more gave place to shops and booths of merchandise 
as the young men advanced down the street, and 
soon they crossed an open square, passing the 
stadium on their left and advancing straight towards 
the massive Coressian gate. Its grim tower was 
flooded with sunlight, and flocks of sparrows twit- 


THE SCHOOL OF TYRANNUS 


31 


tered about the beetling eaves, or darted back and 
forth between the pavement and the roof in search 
of their morning meal. The sentinel on duty evi- 
dently expected no attack, for he lounged beside 
the oaken portal through which the stream of coun- 
try people was steadily moving to their business or 
pleasure within the city. There were weather- 
bronzed fishermen from the bay of Samos, their 
bare legs hardened against the cold, and on their 
backs great baskets full of their finny spoil. Herb- 
sellers were driving in donkeys laden with the pre- 
served fruits of the farm. Here and there amid 
the crowds of the tradesmen gleamed the white 
robe of a priest, the fantastic apparel of the mount- 
ebank, or the glittering arms of the soldier. By 
the stalls of the grocers and butchers lingered slaves 
with baskets, haggling over the price of master’s 
breakfast. It was the best place in all the city to 
see tricky, work-a-day Ephesus. 

Nymphas and Archippus did not proceed through 
this gate, however, but turned towards a building, 
the rear of which formed part of the city wall. It 
was a three-storied structure and upon the ground 
floor several dealers in fruits and bread had their 
shops. The second story was even with the wall, 
while the third rose above it. By an outside stair, 
they mounted to the third floor, and, as they enter 
the schoolroom of Tyrannus, we will take a peep 
after them. 

It is a large room, fifty feet long, by twenty feet 
wide. The door by which we enter is at the western 
end, and there is a raised platform at the other end. 


32 


ONESIMUS 


with a door which undoubtedly communicates with 
the tower over the gate. Near this is a kind of 
reading-desk, with chairs; and behind, in a cabinet, 
we behold the sophist’s tools — rolls of parchment, 
books of papyrus, the treasures of Greek and 
Latin literature. Before the platform are ranged 
seats of wood, and upon the walls hang charts, 
on which are traced the figures of Euclid, the 
geometer. 

Although this chamber is now used as a school- 
room, yet the signs of its original purpose are 
evident, for along the walls are racks for arms, and 
we are sure of that which we supposed as we 
approached. The building was erected as a guard- 
house to the gate, but the strong hand of Rome has 
made it unnecessary as a garrison building, and 
therefore it is used as a school. 

Let us stand for a moment by this southern win- 
dow, where the sun pours in, and take a view of 
the city. On our left rises the elevation of Mount 
Coressus, its steep sides covered with houses, ter- 
race above terrace to the very top. They are 
antique structures, very strange to occidental eyes, 
with their blank gray walls and flat tiled roofs, on 
which, even at this early hour, some women are 
hanging out clothes to dry. At the base of Cores- 
sus, nay, so close that the natural rock forms part 
of the wall of the building, stands the stadium. 
From our elevation one could almost throw a stone 
over the curved end into the race course within. On 
racing days the students of Tyrannus can see the 
sport from their windows, without the expense of 


THE SCHOOL OP TYRANNUS 


33 


hiring- any of the many stone seats, which rise rank 
above rank in a series of steps, and cast back the 
sun’s rays from their polished surface. Close to 
the stadium passes the Sacred Way of Diana, which 
curves out of sight around the foot of the mount. 
Beyond the stadium we behold the forum with its 
palaces of justice and its marts of trade; and over 
the roof of the gymnasium which stands hard by 
the forum we see something of the dockyards and 
warehouses; nay, we even catch a glimpse of the 
heavy top-gear of two or three Alexandrian ships, 
and the light spars of a galley ; but the water of the 
basin in which they float is hidden. Yonder blue 
hill to the south, on the further limits of the city, is 
the range of Prion. 

Crossing the room and looking from the northern 
window over the wall, we behold the country at first 
almost as thickly settled as the walled city, for pros- 
perous, Roman Ephesus has outgrown all the forti- 
fications of the old independent days. We see the 
dusty street emerge from under the arched gate, 
and, dividing into two branches, wind towards the 
north and east. The northern branch is soon lost 
to view in a dreary meadow ground, amid which 
the eye traces the sinuous Cayster flowing slowly 
towards the sea. It is the road to Smyrna. The 
eastern branch winds amid groves of trees, amongst 
which we catch a sight of white and gold, of col- 
umns and glistening roofs. It is nothing else than 
the renowned temple of Diana, one of the seven 
wonders of the world. 

After all, when we have walked the streets and 


34 


ONESIMUS 


seen the houses of a city, we are not really 
acquainted with it. To know Ephesus we must 
behold the panorama of its history moving before 
us. Far back in the second millennium before 
Christ, the Pelasgi and Leleges had built their huts 
on this spot because nature had made it the gateway 
of Asia Minor. In the days when Saul reigned in 
Israel, Androclus of Athens, so the legends say, 
conquered the city. From his time dates the 
beginning of the struggle between Greek culture 
and philosophy on the one side, and oriental super- 
stition and craft on the other. These influences had 
waxed and waned alternately until the strong hand 
of Rome had welded all together in one conglom- 
erate. 

This is the Ephesus which we behold. It is full 
of trade, for it is the market of the East and West. 
It is full of luxury, for its merchants are princes 
and its traffickers the great ones of the earth. It is 
full of superstition, for alike the cold philosophy of 
the West and the hot passion of the East cry, “Great 
is Diana of the Ephesians ! “ It is full of misery and 
sin, for since they did not like to retain God in their 
knowledge, God gave them up to vile affections, to 
do those things which are not befitting, and to 
receive in themselves that recompense of their error 
which was meet. 

When the friends entered the room a number of 
young men were seated in groups, engaged in 
conversation or reading. Evidently they were sons 
of the aristocracy, for their long white undergar- 
ments gleamed with needle- work and beaten gold 


THE SCHOOL OF TYRANNUS 


35 


beneath their outer coaks of rich scarlet. High 
boots laced in front were upon their feet, and their 
persons were redolent with perfume. They 
answered the greetings of the new comers cordially, 
and one of them, looking up from his copy of 
Homer, said: 

“I need not ask the question of the hero of old, 
‘Who art thou, and whence among men? Where 
dwellest thou, where dwell thy parents?’ for I am 
thy fellow townsman, just arrived from Colosse, 
Epaphras, son of Theron. ’ ’ 

“Strangers at home were we, but here in distant 
Ephesus all Colossians should be friends,’’ said 
Archippus, heartily grasping his hand. 

“I knew by reputation your father, the purple 
merchant. 

“Welcome to our school.’’ 

“How long is it since you passed the old gate and 
saw the last of dear Colosse?’’ 

“One week ago to-day I crossed the Lycus and 
set my face towards Ephesus. ’ ’ 

“And the news from home, tell it me, for al- 
ready three months have passed since I bade my 
parents farewell, and news is infrequent at this 
season. ’ ’ 

“There is nothing new at home and thy parents 
are well. Thy father gave my father this for thee 
the day before I started.’’ 

Archippus broke the seal and read : 

To our dear son Archippus, greeting:— The gods grant thee 
health as they do to us at home. Daily art thou in our thoughts 
and in our prayers. Do thou study to show thyself an honor 


36 


ONESIMUS 


to thy father in the great city, and that thy faithful endeavor 
bring wealth to our family and fame to our name. 

Thy father, 

PHILEMON, Wool Merchant. 

Enclosed was another note in smaller hand, which 
read: 

To my dear brother Archippus, greeting:— I pray for you at 
Diana’s shrine every day, and know that you will become a 
great sophist. Every one is well at home except that Castor 
hurt his finger in the mill. My chickens are doing nicely, and 
I think old Brownie will soon be ready to set. She lays an egg 
now nearly every day. Since you are gone and are studying 
so hard, father says I must learn something also. So, besides 
the lessons on the lyre, I commit some verses from Homer 
every day. 

The gods grant you success. 

Your loving sister, 

MENODORA. 

When Archippus had read the letters he thanked 
Epaphras for bringing them and said, “Where are 
you lodging?” 

“I stop at the house of one Onesiphorus on the 
Magnesian Street, a very grave citizen who has 
several lodgers.” 

“Does he have any other students?” inquired 
Nymphas. 

“No; there is a young man named Timothy, who 
seems to be a kind of free attendant on an older 
man named Paul. There is also a man and his wife, 
tent-makers from Greece, but I have only saluted 
them as yet. ' ’ 

“Come to see us,” said Archippus, “we have 
separate chambers, but in one house, belonging to 


THE SCHOOL OF TYRANNUS 


37 


a Jew on the Way of Diana. We shall be glad to 
be friends with you. ’ ’ 

“Thank you,” replied Epaphras, “I shall do so 
gladly. To be a stranger in a large city is not 
pleasant. ’ ’ 

Just then the door opened and the master 
appeared, a short, well-built man with a keen eye 
under heavy brows, and dark hair, already tinged 
with gray. 

“I beg the pardon of my lords,” said he, casting 
his winter mantle into a chair, “but my friend the 
Asiarch, Glaukos, detained me at the bath. His 
little son was struck by death recently, and he asked 
me questions brought home to him by that sad fate ; 
questions concerning a future life. He has always 
been a proud and rather reserved man, but his only 
child was as the apple of his eye. It touched my 
heart to hear his anxious questions, and, indeed, I 
was sorry to give him but poor comfort. What 
could I say at such a time? Philosophy is, as the 
poet says, the guide of life ; but the great past when 
we were not, and the great future when we shall 
not be, is but feebly lighted by its rays. It is true 
that the Egyptians professed a deep knowledge of 
the future life, but after all, what is the bridge of 
death and the judgment of Osiris, but their expres- 
sion of our own poets’ dreams? For, from our own 
Homer to the Latin Virgil, their picture of a future 
life is nothing but the projection of their own 
imagination beyond the tomb. So I told him to 
drown his sorrow in wine, if he desired ; or rather, 
as becomes a philosopher, to divert his thoughts by 


38 


ONESIMUS 


congenial study or by the service of the state ; for 
no voice ever came from beyond the grave, or is 
like to come, in spite of the mumblings of all the 
necromancers of Ephesus. ’ ’ 

“What is the law of Moses to which the Jew, 
Alexander, alluded in my presence this morning?” 
asked Nymphas, as Tyrannus motioned to him to 
state the question evidently upon his lips. 

“Moses,” replied Tyrannus, “was an Egyptian 
priest who flourished in the days of the great Ra- 
meses, fully fifteen hundred years ago. I heard his 
story when I was a student in Alexandria. It appears 
that, having collected an army of lepers and other 
unclean persons, he raised an insurrection against 
the government. After a time the rebellion was 
suppressed, but he, with some of his followers, 
escaped and fled to the wilderness. There they 
would have died of thirst, had they not by following 
a wild ass come upon springs of water. On this 
account the Jews, their descendants, are said to 
worship the head of an ass to this day. 

“The law of Moses is the rule that he gave his 
army, still held sacred by the Jews. I have never 
read it, but you may find copies in a Greek transla- 
tion in any of their synagogues. When the treas- 
ures of philosophers and sages are in our hands, it 
would seem like a waste of time to study a vile 
oriental superstition. But if you will take your 
seats and prepare your tablets for notes, I will begin 
my lecture. 

“We were speaking last time of the third great 
character of the Ionic school, Anaximenes, and we 


THE SCHOOL OP TYRANNUS 


39 


shall now proceed to consider a fourth member of 
this class, Anaxagoras.” 

Thus the lecture proceeded, only interrupted by 
the hurrying styli of the students, and a faint echo 
of the noise in the street below. Once the door was 
opened and Onesimus entered and took his place in 
the corner. Wine, anger and pain had left their 
traces on his face, and his tunic bore marks of 
blood, which had soaked through from his back 
when the garment was replaced after his beating in 
the slave-market. No one paid any attention to 
him, however. 

So the fifth hour came, unheeded; the noise of 
business became less in the street; the master 
closed his lecture ; and the students prepared to go. 

As Archippus and Nymphas were replacing some 
rolls in the cabinet, and Onesimus, and Manes, the 
slave of Nymphas, were awaiting them at the door, 
two men entered. They appeared to be freedmen 
of the better class and they asked to speak with 
Tyrannus. 

“Tell me,” said one, as Tyrannus approached, 
“does this chamber belong to you?” 

“The building,” answered the sophist, “is Roman 
property, but I rent this floor from the proconsul. 
It is in my control. What will ye?” 

“Would you sublet it, then, after your school is 
dismissed?” 

“Perhaps, if I were sure that the purposes to 
which it would be put are appropriate to a place 
dedicated to wisdom.” 

“You need not fear for that, for we wish it, that 


40 


ONESIMUS 


Paul, the apostle of Jesus Christ, may proclaim the 
gospel herein. ’ ’ 

“And who is Paul, and who is Jesus Christ, and 
what glad tidings does he proclaim? Is he a new 
sophist come to teach in our midst, or an eastern 
juggler seeking to profit by the credulity of the 
people? ^ Verily Ephesus has enough of them 
already. ’ ’ 

“Jesus Christ,” broke in the other, who had not 
so far spoken, “is the Son of God, the Savior of the 
world, who has brought the truth to us ; and Paul is 
his apostle to lead men to the light. ’ ’ 

“Not so fast, young man,” answered Tyrannus; 
“when thou hast learned more thou wilt know that 
truth is multiform and no one man can bring it. 
However, I would that my students were as zealous 
in my defense as thou art for thy master. If thy 
master is a wise man and his students peaceable, I 
will rent thee the room after the fifth hour each day, 
for ten drachmae the month. ’ ’ 

“It is a good offer certainly, is it not Luke?” said 
the young man who had just spoken. 

“The room is well suited to our purpose, my 
Timothy,” replied Luke, “and since the company of 
the disciples has given us authority to use our own 
judgment and to spend so much, we will engage it. 
We will accept your offer,” said he, turning to 
Tyrannus. 

And thus is came to pass that Paul separated the 
disciples and disputed daily in the school of one 
Tyrannus. 


CHAPTER III 


STUDENT LIFE IN EPHESUS 

Student days are usually the happiest days of a 
man’s life. The sense of freedom, characteristic of 
childhood, has not yet given place to the cares of 
maturity, and the burdens of manhood. Already 
intelligence is quickened and the body and mind 
rejoice together; the body in the vigor of youth, the 
mind in the pleasure of new-found consciousness. 
It is the springtime of life, the time when the warm 
light of life’s ascending sun first causes nature to 
break forth into bud. 

Student character is essentially the same, whether 
in the priestly universities of Egypt, where the 
youthful Moses became learned in all the wisdom of 
the Egyptians ; or whether in the groves of Athens, 
or upon the banks of the Neckar or the Charles. 
The average student is ever the same good-hearted 
fellow, ready for sport and even mischief ; but with 
the purpose of a noble life thrusting hard against 
the shell of careless gaiety. 

As the students are in the closing days of the 
nineteenth century, so were the young men gathered 
around the lecture-room of Tyrannus in Ephesus in 
the middle of the first. 

Among these there were no better friends— chums 
we would call them now — than Nymphas of Laodi- 
cea and Archippus of Colosse, while, more and 
41 


42 


ONESIMUS 


more, Epaphras of Colosse was admitted into their 
little brotherhood. His bright wit and gentle man- 
ner made him a favorite with the older and more 
discreet Nymphas, and a trusted adviser of the 
impetuous Archippus. 

Some young men court temptation, and for them 
the freedom of a great city is their certain destruc- 
tion ; but it was not so with these friends, Pride of 
family was sufficient to restrain Nymphas from all 
open vice, while the thought of his mother and 
sister in distant Colosse was a check on the spirits 
of Archippus. As for Epaphras, he was one of 
those rare natures that shed evil and remain ever 
pure. Thus they walked among the unspeakable 
abominations of a great heathen city, a city in which 
the vileness of the east was arrayed in the tempting 
beauty of the west ; and although not pure accord- 
ing to Christian standards, they were marked among 
their companions for honor and integrity. With 
them were associated their three slaves. Manes, now 
an old man, devoted to his master Nymphas, whose 
childish prattle had been music to his ear ; Tychicus, 
a young slave, recently purchased and presented by 
his father to Epaphras when he came to Ephesus ; 
and Onesimus, whom we have known before, ever 
careless and indifferent in the service of his master 
Archippus, sometimes positively abusive and dis- 
obedient. 

As a jewel is seen to the best advantage in its set- 
ting, so we will best become acquainted with these 
friends if we see them in their daily life. The first 
streak of dawn was glowing over the roof tops of 


STUDENT LIFE IN EPHESUS 


43 


Mount Coressus when the faithful Manes, who 
slept in the passage before his master’s door, 
sprang up, and aroused Onesimus, who also 
guarded the entrance to Archippus’ chamber. 
The two slaves then prepared the morning meal 
— a simple breakfast of bread, wine, and fruit in its 
season. 

“Onesimus,” said Manes, “your master is a fine 
student. Only yesterday Nymphas told me that he 
would give half his fortune if he could learn so 
quickly. But my lord was so busy with his affairs, 
when he first came of age, that he is old to begin 
study. The mind grows rusty with age, like yonder 
hinge; I know that by experience.” 

“I don’t see that it does me any good that 
Archippus is smart, for it brings me neither free- 
dom nor money.” 

“Maybe you are not proud to belong to a great 
master,” replied Manes, “but I am. To walk at the 
head of a troop before his litter, and to hear the 
people say, ‘There goes the young Nymphas, the 
richest man in Laodicea, ’ makes my fingers tingle 
with delight.” 

Onesimus answered, “If he is so rich, why does 
he not give you your freedom? You have served 
him long enough. ’ * 

“Freedom! what is there in that word which I 
have not? Do I not have good food and clothes, 
time to myself, and a good master to serve? If I 
could be free to-morrow I would not take it. Well 
do I remember the morning — it was more than two 
Olympiads ago — when I bade farewell to my old 


44 


ONESIMUS 


master on the deck of the Triton, just over in yon- 
der harbor.” 

“ ‘Manes,’ ” said he, ‘take good care of my son 
and property till I come back. ’ 

“‘By the mother of the gods I will!’ replied’!. 
“And then I took my young master by the hand to 
lead him away ; but his mother ran after him to give 
him one more kiss. Then we stood on the harbor 
wall, and waved our hands as the ship moved out of 
sight. My old lord is now a shade, for Neptune 
took him ; but the promise I gave him I have kept ; 
and, by all the gods, I will continue to keep it. ’ ’ 

“Well, you have a good master and that makes 
some difference, ’ ’ growled Onesimus. ‘ ‘ I think you 
have never had a beating in the slave market.” 

“I think I never stole my master’s cloak, and 
courted Jewish wine-girls, when I should be attend- 
ing him, ’ ’ answered Manes with spirit. 

“Well,” retorted Onesimus, “I am his, they say; 
and so when I take his cloak it is his yet, is it not? 
My Jewess, Rachel, is a blossom, and I would leave 
any master for her. ’ ’ 

“I can’t reason with you,” replied Manes, “but I 
know what is right;” and taking up a basket of 
provisions he started toward his master’s door. 

Soon Archippus and Nymphas, attended by their 
slaves, were reclining at breakfast. 

“Old Pluto must have let his young wife return 
to earth,” said Nymphas, as he looked from the 
window at a glorious spring morning. 

“Yes,” answered Archippus, “and I wish we 
could spend the day in the fields instead of in that 


STUDENT LIFE IN EPHESUS 


45 


musty old schoolroom ; but the sun marks the first 
hour on the dial and we must be going. ’ ’ 

So the two sauntered leisurely towards the Cores- 
sian gate, followed by their slaves bearing their 
tablets and rolls. 

When they entered the schoolroom Tyrannus was 
already there, and the students were assembling. 
The clepsydra was filled, and the water began to 
flow from it in a stream which marked the time. 
The sophist lectured long and slowly on the theolog- 
ical speculations of the philosophers ; but was not 
displeased to be interrupted once and again by 
questions from the students. When the lecture was 
completed they listened while one of the students 
delivered an oration upon Plato’s Laws, which was 
freely criticised by both master and pupils. Then 
followed exercises in geometry, in which Archippus 
easily led his class, both in the accuracy and rapidity 
of his solutions. Manes sat on his seat by the door, 
his eyes full of pride, while Nymphas read a paper 
for the economic class, on the best methods of 
opening western markets for eastern products — a 
paper heard with scant patience by the master. 
It was against his pleasure that the class was organ- 
ized ; all the thoughts of the sophist being occupied 
by the abstract speculations of the sages. Reading 
and criticism of the masters of Greek literature fol- 
lowed until the fifth hour, and then the pupils 
dispersed ; some to the neighboring wine-shops for 
food and drink ; some to their private baths and the 
company of their mistresses ; some to devote the after- 
noon to sport in the gymnasium, and some to study. 


46 


ONESIMUS 


Nymphas, Archippus and Epaphras, as was their 
custom, repaired immediately to the gymnasium. 
It was a large square building, and the front wall 
was decorated with the statues of athletes who had 
won fame in the contests of old. In the recess 
above the low door stood a marble Hercules, the 
lion’s skin flung back from his massive shoulder 
with a careless art which brought into striking relief 
the knotted muscles of his arms and legs. At the 
entrance the three slaves were awaiting their mas- 
ters with covered baskets filled with light refresh- 
ments. Within, a glare of sunshine fell on the 
sandy arena, where, in spite of the noonday heat, a 
number of persons were playing at discus, or box- 
ing. More, however, clad in the lightest clothing, 
were lounging under the shadow of the double 
colonnade which ran around all four sides. The 
friends walked around the portico until opposite 
the entrance, where a door led into the bath. 
Through this they passed into a large, vaulted 
chamber, the floor and walls of which were of snowy 
marble. From a curtained skylight the sunshine 
filtered down in greenish tints upon the glistening 
pavement. 

An attendant took a fee from each of the students, 
dropping the coin in a wooden box. 

“Look at this,” said Archippus, approaching the 
bulletin board, upon which were posted notices of 
races and gladiatorial shows. 

Nymphas read aloud: “APOLLONIUS, MAS- 
TER OF THE MAGICIANS, FAVORED OF 
DIANA, KEEPER OF ALL MYSTERIES, AN- 


STUDENT LIFE IN EPHESUS 


47 


NOUNCES THAT HE HAS JUST RETURNED 
FROM THE EAST, AND WILL DISPLAY HIS 
POWER TO THE WORSHIPERS OF THE 
GODDESS AT DIANA’S FESTIVAL NEXT. 
FAIL NOT TO SEE HIM.” 

“He intends to let us know about it in time,” 
remarked Epaphras, “for it is more than two 
months yet.” 

“Magicians are always braggarts,” answered 
Nymphas, contemptuously. “Let’s to the bath.” 

The friends now entered a smaller room where 
they disrobed. From that they passed into the 
hot-air chamber, which made their feet restless upon 
the floor and sent streams of perspiration coursing 
down their limbs. Afterward came a plunge into a 
swimming tank of cold water, and then they 
resigned themselves to the warm bath and the 
attention of their slaves. Indeed, it was pleasant, 
after the mental exertions of the morning, to lie in 
tepid, perfumed water, and then to be rubbed, 
scraped and anointed by vigorous hands. 

When the bath and lunch were over they came 
out into the portico, where several students were 
loudly applauding a wrestling match upon the 
arena of white sand. The naked bodies of the 
athletes gleamed in the sun as their slippery forms 
twisted in the contortions of their sport. 

“One hundred obloi on Calliches!” cried a spec- 
tator in excitement. 

“Make it one hundred drachmae on Calliches!” 
replied the other. 

“And I a hundred on Polycles!” said Nymphas. 


48 


ONESIMUS 


“By Diana!" broke in Epaphras, “they are well 
matched." And so it was. Muscles strained and 
stood out like whip-cords, and great drops of sweat 
rolled from their bodies. 

“It is mine! it is mine!" screamed the other, as 
with a mighty effort Calliches lifted his opponent 
from the ground and dropped him exhausted on the 
hard sand. 

“The bet is yours,” repliecj Nymph as. “Here, 
take this" — writing a few words on his tablet and 
sealing it with his finger-ring — “to the money 
changer’s by the way of the theater, and get your 
drachmae. ’ ’ 

“By Hercules!" cried the other, “I am ready for 
another trial. Who will bet with me on the discus 
match about to begin?" 

“I have lost enough for to-day," answered Nym- 
phas, calmly. 

“Come Archippus, come Epaphras, the sun 
declines, let us take a walk beyond the city wall 
this lovely spring evening. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I am translating Plato into Latin for the benefit 
of my Latin," said Epaphras, “and I must go home 
and go to work. ’ ’ 

“Oh come with us, my Epaphras," urged Archip- 
pus, “and when we get home you shall dine with us 
and we will help you with your translation." 

“Ulysses could not pass the sirens without wax in 
his ears, and neither can I refuse you," laughed 
Epaphras; “I will go." 

Followed by their slaves the three young men left 
the gymnasium, crossed the agora, and, passing 


STUDENT LIFE IN EPHESUS 


49 


through the crooked streets between Coressus and 
Prion, were soon beyond the Magnesian gate. 

The early Asian spring had decked the fields with 
flowers, and the sky had the promise of summer in 
it. A flock of sheep, under the care of a youthful 
shepherd, were nibbling the young grass among the 
sunken stones of an ancient burying ground. The 
landscape had that peculiar hue seen only in the 
infancy of vegetation, while from many a leafy 
retreat came the song of happy birds. All nature 
seemed to throb with life, about and above the 
silent ashes of those who had once been men, but 
were so no more. 

“What a glorious thing it is to be alive!” said 
Nymphas, throwing himself on a bed of tender grass. 

“Yes,” answered Epaphras, “to be young and 
strong, with the prospect of a long and happy life, 
such as the gods will grant to Nymphas — that is a 
glorious thing. ’ ’ 

A shadow seemed to pass over the face of the 
other. 

“Yet,” said he, “I am the only one of my race; 
and as I spend my life, there is none to whom I can 
bring happiness but myself. Both of you have 
parents and others to rejoice in your success, but I 
have none. ’ ’ 

“Oh, you will return to Laodicea, rebuild your 
father’s dwelling and enlarge the business which 
he began to develop. Then you will forswear all 
the pleasures of public love for the embraces of 
some little Phrygian beauty. She will, by her 
dower, augment your fortune, and by herself, fill 


50 


ONESIMUS 


your home with sturdy heirs; for, like Cicero, if 
you are alone now, you will not be the last of your 
line, but the founder of it. I wonder you are not 
married yet, my Nymphas. ” 

“Oh,” said Nymphas, with a smile, “I suppose 
my lot in life is something as you say. To establish 
a household ; to become the chief man in Laodicea ; 
to court imperial favor and obtain some public 
office ; to take a voyage to Rome as is fashionable 
now-a-days; with a journey perhaps to Alexandria 
to brush up my philosophy; and then to die, I 
suppose is about my lot. ” 

“Don’t speak of dying to us young men on a day 
like this,” rejoined Archippus. “Why can you not 
open your house and make it the center of a great 
literary circle, as Maecenas did in Rome a hundred 
years ago?” 

“I am afraid that Laodicea is too provincial for 
such purposes,” said Nymphas, shaking his head; 
and then, playfully, “if you ever come to my door 
a bankrupt sophist, Archippus, you shall receive 
food and shelter for the rest of your days.” 

“I shall not be a bankrupt sophist, for at Athens 
there are always openings for earnest students ; and 
when a man has made his mark at Athens, the way 
to Rome is strewn with honor and gold. Both 
these I shall attain, for I am able to do what I 
attempt, and my father has enough to back me.” 

“Well,” said Epaphras, plucking some little flow- 
ers from between his feet, “I am younger than 
either of you, and I do not know yet what I shall 
do ; but my hope is to explore some of the mysteries 


STUDENT LIFE IN EPHESUS 


51 


that are around us like a cloud. Continually I ask 
myself, why am I alive, and what is life, and what 
is death, and the beyond. ’ ’ 

“Epaphras,” said Nymphas, “you are too old for 
your years. ’ ’ 

“Come,” said Archippus, “it is growing late, let 
us return to the city. Epaphras, you are to join us 
at dinner, and the symposium shall be devoted to 
the translation of Plato’s Phsedo into Latin as we 
promised you. ’ ’ 

Manes had provided a dinner in Nymphas’ cham- 
ber, the walls of which were covered with the 
choicest products of the looms of Thyatira. Statues 
of poets and statesmen were arranged along the 
side, and a heavy chest could hardly hold the rolls 
of finely-written manuscripts which were crowded 
into it. Niobe, weeping for her children, supplied 
an exquisite porcelain tank with pure water, while 
Apollo, driving the chariot of the sun, shed a soft 
light throughout the room. 

“See, I have here something nice,” said Nym- 
phas, reappearing among his guests clad in a fresh 
mantle; “I bought it of the silversmith, Deme- 
trius, who has his shop near our school. He wanted 
to sell me a shrine of Diana, but I told him that, 
while I worshiped the goddess, it was at the public 
altar and not in private. So he brought out this 
case. ’ ’ 

It was a beautiful model of Diana’s temple, made 
not as a shrine, but to hold toilet articles. 

“I shall use it,” said Nymphas, “to keep my 
writing materials together. ’ ’ 


52 


ONESIMUS 


Manes, assisted by the other slaves, had by this 
time set the table. The three young men reclined 
beside the polished board, on which stood a great 
dish containing a joint of mutton, cooked with veg- 
etables. Onesimus passed water for the hands, and 
the dinner began. Not a knife or fork was on the 
table. Each one helped himself to the meat with 
his fingers, obtaining a share of the more liquid 
portion of the stew by means of thin wafers of 
bread, used instead of spoons. When the meal was 
finished water was again poured over the hands by 
Onesimus, while Tychicus dried them with a 
towel. 

“Come,” said Nymphas, after the board was 
cleared and the wine cup stood before him, “let us 
aid Epaphras with his translation. ’ ’ 

“I have this much finished,” said the latter, 
shuffling over some sheets of papyrus. “If Nym- 
phas will read the Greek, beginning at the mark, 
Archippus can correct my faulty Latin.” 

Nymphas read : 

“Well, Socrates,” said Simmias, “then I will tell you my 
difficulty, and Cebes will tell you his. For I dare say that you 
feel as I do, how very hard, or almost impossible, is the attain- 
ment of any certainty about questions such as these in the pres- 
ent life. And yet I would deem him a coward who did not 
prove that what is said about them to the uttermost, or whose 
heart failed him before he had examined them on every side. 
For he should persevere until he has attained to one of two 
things ; either he should discover or learn the truth about them ; 
or, if that is impossible, I would have him take the best and 
most irrefragable of human notions, and let this be the raft on 
which he sails through life — not without risk, as I admit, if he 


STUDENT LIFE IN EPHESUS 


53 


cannot find some word of God which will more surely and 
safely carry him. ”* 

“Is it not wonderful,” broke in Epaphras, “that 
such wise men can advance proof of a future life 
and yet it is never quite sure?” 

“It is strange,” answered Nymphas. “I have 
thought much on this subject since my parent’s 
death, and can come to no conclusion. If, as the 
book suggests, the soul is to the body as the music 
to the lyre, then indeed death is an eternal sleep; 
but if the soul is a separate entity, then it may live 
forever. But what is its condition? Are the stories 
of the poets true, or is the state of the dead so 
different from our own that we cannot conceive 
of it?” 

“I have always avoided thinking on such mat- 
ters,” replied Archippus; “but since we are talking 
on the subject, I believe it is as the passage says, 
impossible to learn the truth unless the gods should 
send us a message from heaven. ’ ’ 

“I shall seek to explore these mysteries,” said 
Epaphras, wistfully. 

“Do so then by the aid of philosophy, and not by 
lying oracles and divinations, ” responded Nymphas. 

“Have you no faith in the wisdom of the sooth- 
sayers and priests?” 

“None in such matters; for I am convinced that 
they deceive the people for gain. ’ ’ 

“Well,” answered the other, “in the cemetery 
which we passed just now, there lies many a heap 


♦Plato’s Phaedo, Jowett’s translation 85. 


54 


ONESIMUS 


of ashes which once was as full of life and hope as 
we are. Young men they were once, studying 
playing, planning as we do ; and now they are gone. 
Oh! where are they? and where shall we be?” 

“I give the riddle up,” said Archippus; “let us 
again to the translation. ’ ’ 

“Manes,” said Onesimus, who had overheard the 
conversation while clearing away the table, “our 
masters are spending their time talking about 
ghosts. ’ ’ 

“They are dreadful things, ” murmured the old 
man solemnly. 

“Bah!” replied Onesimus; “let me have my free- 
dom and I warrant you I would spend my time in 
something more interesting than such idle specula- 
tions about the shadows of men. ’ ’ 

“Don’t you believe there are such things?” ques- 
tioned Tychicus, earnestly. 

“Young fool,” replied Onesimus, looking con- 
temptuously at the younger slave, “when you have 
grown older you will find out that there are neither 
gods nor ghosts; but the masters tell these fables 
to frighten timid children and foolish slaves like 
you. ’ ’ 

Thus the evening passed, and when the watchman 
on the street cried out the second watch, Epaphras 
closed his book, called for a torch, and, escorted by 
Tychicus, sought his lodgings. 

And so another of the many student days had 
passed in Ephesus. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE GRAIN OF MUSTARD SEED 

Shortly after the events just described, as Tyran- 
nus was about to close the school for the day, he 
remarked, “My friend, the Asiarch Glaukos, will 
come in presently, and we expect to remain to listen 
to the teaching of the Jew, Paul, for whom this 
building is rented after hours. I invite all the 
young men who so desire, to remain with us; for 
certainly the philosopher should be interested in so 
novel a doctrine as his. I have talked with him 
occasionally, and have found him both intelligent 
and earnest, absolutely devoted to the propagation 
of his views. I have also made some inquiries con- 
cerning his manner of life, and find that he has been 
teaching in the city some four or five months, and 
has caused a great sensation among the Jews and 
others of the lower classes. Indeed, so great a dis- 
turbance has been caused that they have expelled 
him from the synagogue, and that is the reason why 
his friends have rented this room for his use. But 
the most strange thing about him is that he teaches 
absolutely without pay, not because he is wealthy 
and desirous of ostentation; but, on the contrary, 
he is so poor that he is obliged to work at the tent- 
maker’s trade, in the shop of one Aquila, to gain a 
scanty livelihood for himself. He devotes his after- 
noons to teaching here, and often he visits from 
55 


56 


ONESIMUS 


house to house and discusses his views far into the 
night.” 

Just at this moment the door opened and the 
Asiarch entered, attended by two slaves. He was 
a tall man, dressed in a purple suit. His face was 
of that serious cast seen in those who take life 
earnestly, a characteristic not to be expected in an 
Asiarch, whose office required that he arrange and 
superintend in person the games and festivals dis- 
played annually in the Greek cities of Asia. This 
position, although without salary and involving 
great expense, was much sought after by wealthy 
citizens because of the fame and popularity to be 
gained thereby. To Glaukos, however, it had 
become a burden and he had resigned his office ; but 
in popular parlance he was known as the Asiarch. 

While Tyrannus was greeting his guest, Nymphas 
said, “Even a dog of an Israelite may drop some 
bone of wisdom. Let us remain.” 

“By all means,” answered Epaphras with unaccus- 
tomed energy. “I have had some conversation with 
Paul at the house of Onesiphorus. He is truly a 
wonderful man and his word worthy of consider- 
ation.” 

“All right,” replied Archippus, “I will call in the 
slaves who must be waiting without. ’ ’ 

Thus it came to pass that Onesimus heard the 
Gospel of freedom for the first time while awaiting 
his master’s pleasure. 

After some moments there were steps upon the 
stair and the room rapidly filled with people. They 
were a motley crowd ; small traders of the forum 


THE GRAIN OF MUSTARD SEED 57 


and laborers from the dockyards, a few persons of 
the clerk class, and several slaves were among the 
number. Soothsayers were not absent, and one 
priest of Diana appeared out of place in his sur- 
roundings. The friends were surpised to behold so 
few Jews, but here and there the face of a Hebrew 
was seen. Most of the audience vrere evidently in 
earnest and anxious to hear; but there were not 
lacking those, especially among the Jews, who cast 
looks of contempt and scorn around the assembly. 

Presently the door opened and three young men 
entered, two of whom we saw when the room was 
rented for the use of the apostle. Then came a 
man and a woman, and with them the great Paul 
himself. 

The friends beheld a short man, bald-headed, with 
a hooked nose and bright eyes which shone with an 
intense luster from under inflamed lids. His head 
was covered with a turban, formed of one piece of 
cloth, twisted about his brow. A seamless robe 
closely fitted his spare form. It was girt at the 
waist and reached to his sandaled feet. This was 
the Kittuna, or Rabbi’s dress; without which none 
dare presume to teach in the synagogue. Such a 
seamless coat it was for which the murderers of his 
Master had cast lots. Over this robe he wore a 
square garment, fringed at the corners with four 
threads of white and one of blue knotted together. 
He walked rapidly to the platform, saluted Tyran- 
nus, and bowed when presented to the Asiarch. 

“Pardon me, Sir,’’ said Tyrannus, “if I beg you 
to defer somewhat to us to-day. The lord Glaukos 


ONESIMUS 


58 

and several of my students are present, desiring to 
become acquainted with your doctrine. May we 
beg of your disciples a little patience while you 
explain to us the rudiments, beyond which they 
must have advanced. ’ ’ 

“With all my heart, “ replied Paul; and turning 
towards the students, having raised his eyes for a 
moment as if in prayer, he began to speak. 

And this is the substance of what he said : 

“My lords Glaukos and Tyrannus, and ye stu- 
dents of Ephesus, I am glad to address you to-day 
for I know that ye are seekers after truth. Truth 
has ever been the search of the wise, and yet the 
greatest of your teachers have confessed that they 
could not attain unto it. Has not Plato said, that 
only if God should send one from heaven, could men 
attain the truth? Such a one, sent from God, I 
declare unto you this day, Jesus of Nazareth, the 
Christ. He came to reveal God, for none by search- 
ing can find him out ; even as the fact that mankind 
has ever thought the Godhead to be like unto gold 
and silver and precious stones, proves. 

“He declares the divine essence to be not many, 
but one ; the soul of nature as the Stoics say ; and 
yet above nature, as the Epicureans claim. Of him, 
and to him, and through him, are all things. He 
reveals God so great and yet so kind that we can 
call him Father, a truth which the poet dimly dis- 
cerned when he said, ‘We are also his offspring.' 
He came to lead us back to God, from sin ; for God 
will punish the wicked, and all those who are not 
obedient to the truth proclaimed. Of this he has 


THE GRAIN OF MUSTARD SEED 59 


given assurance in that he has raised his messenger, 
this Jesus, from the dead. 

“I and all the other apostles are witnesses of his 
life, death and resurrection ; for although I did not 
follow him in the flesh, he was revealed to me as to 
one born out of due time, and commissioned me 
to proclaim his word to the nations. Therefore my 
message to you is, a message from God, the Father, 
that ye repent of your sins and turn to God through 
faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.” 

He had spoken with such power that his hearers 
were carried with him even against their will. 
When he ceased, Glaukos said, “Tell me, did you 
say that you had seen this Jesus after he rose from 
the dead?” 

“Yes, Sir,” answered he, turning towards Glau- 
kos, “none could be more opposed to him than was 
I, as the Jews of the synagpgue will bear me wit- 
ness. I blasphemed his name and persecuted his 
disciples ; but, while on the way to Damascus with 
letters from the chief priests to bring the disciples 
bound to Jerusalem for punishment, I was stopped 
by him, and mine eyes were opened, and his mes- 
sage put upon my tongue. ’ ’ 

“It is marvelous,” said the Asiarch, “your words 
are the words of a madman, but your bearing is that 
of a true man and a philosopher. We will hear you 
again of this matter. ’ ’ 

Tyrannus said, “It is usual for you to hold a 
meeting of your students at the time which you 
devoted to us, and we thank you for your 
speech. If you have no objection we should 


6o 


ONESIMUS 


like to remain in your assembly from a friendly 
curiosity. ’ ’ 

“Certainly,” replied Paul, “we are glad to have 
you with us. ’ ’ 

Having said this he seated himself and, without 
more ado, began to sing. At once almost all the 
audience joined in the song. The words were 
Greek and familiar, but the thought seemed strange 
to the listeners. 

“O give thanks unto the Lord for he is good, for 
his mercy endureth forever. ’ ’ 

“Timothy,” said the apostle, when the song was 
ended, addressing the young man who had come in 
with Luke, “bring hither the roll and read, for my 
eyes are bad to-day. ’ ’ 

Timothy, thus commanded, arose, and read words 
almost unintelligible to those who heard them for 
the first time. 

“And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem 
of Jesse and a branch shall grow out of his roots;” 
words that became more strange and fascinating as 
the apostle commented upon every sentence. At 
last when Timothy had advanced to the words, 
“Behold, God is my salvation, I will trust and not 
be afraid,” Paul broke in, rising from his seat, his 
whole body trembling with emotion, “I beseech you 
brethren, by the mercies of God that you present 
your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto 
God, which is your reasonable service.” 

Every one in the audience was deeply moved, and 
sobs and cries were heard throughout the room. 
One after another arose and testified to salvation by 


THE GRAIN OF MUSTARD SEED 6i 


Christ ; some confessed their sins ; and those before 
estranged, wept on each other’s necks. A strange, 
mysterious presence seemed to fill the place, so that 
the word of each seemed to be the appropriate word 
for all. Decent and in order was the service. But 
the excitement was so intense that Glaukos clinched 
his dagger as if for a death struggle, although he 
had forgotten that he had a weapon ; while the faces 
of the students gleamed pale and drawn, in the 
gathering gloom. 

At last the apostle said, a strange glory seeming 
to shine from his face, “Brethren, Christ’s word is 
again fulfilled, for we have met together in his 
name, and he has been in the midst of us. Since 
the prophet said ‘Then they that loved the Lord 
spake often one to another,’ let us meet each other 
and him at the appointed hour to-morrow. You are 
his witnesses in the world,” added he, “therefore 
glorify God in your bodies and spirits which are 
his.” 

Thus the assembly dispersed, and the three 
friends walked home, followed by their slaves. 
Hardly a word was spoken by the way, for the won- 
derful presence of the gathering seemed to cling 
like a fragrance to their garments. When within 
his chamber, Archippus threw himself on the couch, 
while Onesimus was arranging the rolls brought 
from the schoolroom. It was not his custom to 
make a companion of his slave, but to-night he 
burst out: “Onesimus, did you ever see anything 
like that? If Apollo himself should address us we 
could not be more moved. What power is this. 


62 


ONESIMUS 


greater than that of any orator, which makes me 
feel miserable, and yet warms my soul with love?” 

“Be not so excited, my lord,” replied the slave, 
“the Jew is undoubtedly a great sorcerer and he 
bewitches his hearers with some spell. I almost 
came under the power of it myself, but by an effort 
I threw it off. ’ ’ 

After a few moments of reflection Archippus told 
Onesimus to follow him as he intended to spend the 
evening with Nymphas. 

Epaphras was already there, and the three friends 
dined together. The food was hardly tasted, how- 
ever; for when the heart is full the body is ready to 
fast. 

‘‘Paul is often at your lodging,” said Nymphas, 
addressing Epaphras, “what do you know of him?” 

“I have seldom met him, for his time at home does 
not correspond with mine ; but I know he acts like 
a man driven by some spirit. No effort is too great, 
and no day long enough for his toils ; for which, as 
Tyrannus says, I cannot discover that he receives 
any pay. His disiciples are often with him in the 
house, and they seem to have caught something of 
his earnestness. There are slaves among them, but 
also many freedmen, both Greeks and Jews. Tim- 
othy, Luke, Gaius, Aristarchus, and Aquila with 
his wife Priscilla, who entered the room this after- 
noon in his company, are daily with him.” 

“What do you think of his doctrine?” urged 
Nymphas with unusual interest. 

“It is something wonderful and new. It seems 
to be founded on superstition, but its results are 


THE GRAIN OF MUSTARD SEED 63 


beautiful, and I have decided that it is a subject 
worthy of my investigation. Perhaps it offers a 
solution for some of the problems that perplex me.” 

‘‘I was greatly moved also,” responded Nymphas, 
“and I mean to hear him again. Certainly the man 
reveals the power of faith in his own doctrine, and 
that puts him in another class from priest and 
soothsayer. ’ ’ 

“Maybe, Epaphras,” interrupted Archippus, “he 
can lead you to some knowledge of the future life, 
for he said he had seen that Jesus after he rose from 
the dead.” 

“Manes, you are a wise old man,” said Nymphas, 
turning towards his slave who stood behind him, 
“what did you think of it?” 

“Truly, master, I can’t just arrange it all in my 
head, but it caught me right here, ’ ’ laying his hand 
on his heart. “Let me go with master to hear him 
again.” 

“Why, my old slave, you shall go as often as you 
wish.” 

“Oh, thank you, good master,” said the old man, 
falling on one knee. “Tychicus,” continued he, 
glancing at the young slave who stood behind 
Epaphras, “says he has begun to study with him, so 
that he may become one of Jesus’ disciples, and he 
wished me to tell it.” 

“Is that so, Tychicus?” exclaimed Epaphras, “then 
you shall teach me privately what they teach 
you. ’ ’ 

“Oh, master, then you are not angry?” cried the 
slave in delight. 


64 


ONESIMUS 


“Angry? you foolish fellow, if the Jew teaches 
you anything that helps you, all I ask is that you 
will let me share it. ’ ’ 

“Oh, master, master, I have prayed and prayed 
that you might not stop me, and he has answered 
my prayers. ’ ’ 

“Who has answered them, Tychicus?” 

“Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Savior,” said 
the slave, with upturned face. 

“This is new doctrine,” said Archippus, “and I 
fear it will ill agree with established customs, and 
that the priests of Diana will not be pleased with 
another deity in her city. ’ ’ 

“By Hercules! I had not thought of that,” replied 
Nymphas. “Now I remember that the old silver- 
smith, Demetrius, stood at his door when we came 
out of the assembly, scowling like a satyr.” 

“I was much moved,” continued Archippus, “but 
the feeling is passing off now and I am my old self 
again.” 

“It maybe well to go slowly in such matters,” 
said Nymphas, “but the subject is worthy of study 
and the right to investigate cannot be denied to a 
philosopher. If it is a matter of new deities I think 
the goddess ought to be able to make room for one 
more. Agrippa’s pantheon contains many gods and 
they all keep the peace. ’ ’ 

“Well, I must be going,” said Archippus, “for I 
have some studying to do. Onesimus, bring me my 
sandals. Onesimus! where is the slave? Always 
gone when I want him. 

“Here are your sandals, lord Archippus,” said 


THE GRAIN OF MUSTARD SEED 65 


Manes, “let me put them on, for Onesimus slipped 
out while the conversation was in progress." 

At that very moment, Onesimus, with Rachel 
reclining on his arm, was drinking wine in a small 
apartment of Alexander’s wine-palace. 

“My Syrian Rose," said he, “your father would 
be angry if he knew you were leaning on the breast 
of a hearer of the great apostate from his faith." 

“Nay, hast thou heard the words of that dog?" 
replied she; “his speech would even pollute the 
ears of a Gentile like you. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Sayest thou so, my Rose ? Then hereafter I 
shall fix my thoughts on you and your good Cyprian 
wine, if my master brings me into his presence 
again. The thought of one witch drives away the 
enchantment of another," bending to kiss her on 
the lips. 

Just then angry vpices were heard, issuing from 
Alexander’s shop on the other side of the court. 

“Cursed be he from the earth, and from the 
heaven! May his portion be with Absalom, and 
may Satan capture his soul as it descends quick into 
Sheol!" 

The voice was recognized by Rachel as that of the 
ruler of their synagogue. 

Then Alexander’s shrill voice was heard: “He 
has trampled upon the customs of our fathers, and 
has taught our people not to circumcise their chil- 
dren, and not to walk according to the law. What 
sayest thou should be his fate. Father Isaac?’’ 

A third voice replied, “Those who entice others 
to worship the gods of the heathen according to the 


66 


ONESIMUS 


law must be stoned without pity; of how much sorer 
punishment, think ye, is he worthy who, having 
learned at the feet of the great Gamaliel, turns 
aside to teach our children the worship of a crucified 
magician? May my dagger find its way to his 
bowels ! ’ ’ 

“Of whom are they talking?” asked Onesimus. 

“It must be concerning your friend, the apostate 
Paul,” returned Rachel with a smile. 


CHAPTER V 


THE EVE OF THE FESTIVAL 

Harmony may be separated into its component 
parts; why not discord? 

As we listen to the roar of traffic, the confusion of 
shouts and cries, the voices of the seller and the 
buyer, near the great Magnesian gate of Ephesus 
on this eve of the festival of Diana, let us try to 
catch the various notes of which the discord is 
composed. 

“Figs! figs! fresh figs, just brought from Caria!” 

“Wine of Cyprus ten years old! Buy my lords, 
and drink to the great Diana of Ephesus.” 

“Silver shrines of Diana, blessed by the chief 
priest himself ! Remember in your homes the fes- 
tival, and take the favor of the goddess with you, 
guaranteed to multiply the herds and make the 
flocks increase. Placed within the home they bring 
the blessing of children. Buy the shrines of Diana, 
cheap at twice their price.” 

“Milk! Milk on the hoof! M)’- goats are fed on 
the tender grass of Prion. Milk, rich and good! 
Drink and be refreshed, and praise the gods.” 

“Mantles of the finest wool! Robes of silk, 
worth their weight in gold, sold at half price, 
appointed for the worshipers of Diana! Profane 
not her courts by appearing there in travel- stained 
robes. Mantles for worshipers!” 

67 


68 


ONESIMUS 


“Love potions after the prescription of the famous 
Lycus, son of Pandion! Is thy mistress fickle? 
Buy, and make her thine forever! Oh, maidens, 
desire ye husbands rich and kind? Buy of me, and 
rejoice in their embraces ! ’ ’ 

“Success! Success in business, love or pleasure 
awaits him who wears Ephesian letters! Bound 
upon the breast they cure disease, prevent enchant- 
ment, and make the wearer strong! Run not the 
risks of life without my Ephesian letters, guaran- 
teed genuine ! ’ ’ 

“This way, my lords! This way to the house of 
wine, and the palace of pleasure! Never more 
beautiful damsels than my master’s fresh this year! 
Enjoy yourselves in the festival of the goddess and 
forget your toil!’’ 

Light may be broken into the seven primary rays, 
but it is in vain to try to distinguish the various 
styles of dress ; the black of the sorcerer, the white 
of the priest, the gorgeous red, yellow and scarlet 
of the various merchants, who, lined on either side 
of the street, assailed with words and even hands 
the stream of men, horses, donkeys and litters pour- 
ing into the city through the gate. Over the 
seething mass of humanity rested a yellow cloud 
of dust, stinging to the eyes and choking to the 
throat. 

“Make room! make room! Room for my lord 
Nymphas !’’ cried Manes, pressing against the 
human tide, closely followed by Onesimus and Tychi- 
cus, who in turn were followed by the three 
friends. 


THE EVE OF THE FESTIVAL 69 


At last the gate was passed, and in the road with- 
out, the peddlers were less numerous and the way 
less confined. 

“Let us wait under the aqueduct," said Epaphras, 
panting for breath after his struggle through the 
crowd, “for they must be nearly here.” 

‘ ‘ By Hercules ! There they are now, * ’ cried Ones- 
imus, as a company of travelers appeared at a 
curve in the Magnesian Way. 

It was a compact little band. Before it stolidly 
marched two armed slaves, and behind them rode 
the master upon a large white horse. He wore the 
dress of a well-to-do traveling merchant, and a 
gilded sword hung by his side. We recognize him 
as the master of the house at Colosse, whose 
acquaintance we made in the first chapter. Then 
came four stalwart slaves bearing a litter, from 
behind the curtains of which, bright girlish eyes 
were looking; and then two mules followed, loaded 
with heavy packs, guided by a young slave, while 
two more armed slaves brought up the rear. 

Hardly was the exclamation out of the mouth of 
Onesimus when Archippus was by the side of the 
litter, and mother, son, and sister, were clasped in 
each other’s arms. When the first burst of affection 
was spent, and the more sedate greetings of the rest 
of the company had been exchanged, Nymphas 
said, “My lord Philemon, the Magnesian gate was 
choked even now with people. As we passed, a 
company of strolling exorcists were preparing to 
locate their ring in the square, so that it is more 
crowded by this time. The way is further, but we 


70 


ONESIMUS 


will save time by skirting the outer wall, and enter- 
ing the city by the Coressian gate.” 

“Let it be as you say,” replied Philemon, and 
so the company passed to the right of the Mag- 
nesian gate, and, encircling the wall, arrived in 
time on the Smyrna road, and a few moments later 
they were under the shadow of the Coressian tower, 
with the schoolroom of Tyrannus looming above 
them on the wall. 

“Oh, mother!” exclaimed Archippus, as they 
passed within the city, “there is our schoolroom! 
I should like to take you into it. ’ ’ 

“I have provided lodgings for yourself and train 
at the house of a worthy citizen, named Onesi- 
phorus,” said Nymphas; “perhaps my lord and 
lady and their fair daughter would prefer to rest 
before attempting to see anything of the city.” 

“Oh! I have thought of Archippus’ school by day 
and dreamed of it by night, ’ ’ exclaimed Menodora ; 
“let us see it right away.” 

“As you will, my child,” answered Philemon, 
springing from his horse ; and so in a few moments 
they were examining the chamber in which we have 
heard the words of philosophy taught, and the 
gospel of salvation proclaimed. 

“There is a very remarkable man who holds 
assemblies after school hours in this chamber,” 
said Archippus; “we often stay to the meetings, 
and they are the most wonderful gatherings I have 
ever attended.” 

“What is their character?” asked Philemon. 

“Religion, philosophy and power are the three 


THE EVE OP THE FESTIVAL 


71 


ingredients of the system,” said Epaphras. “I 
doubt not that the seed which he plants is destined 
to overturn the moral, social and religious systems 
of Ephesus, and to establish a better condition 
among men. ’ ’ 

“Do not think of such a thing,” answered Phi- 
lemon ; “for the gods themselves could hardly over- 
throw the present state of affairs, a condition which 
has its roots buried in antiquity. Great Diana of 
the Ephesians is not so easily cast down from her 
magnificence. ' ’ 

“Who is that man talking to the slaves in the 
court?” broke out Menodora. “Is that your master 
the sophist?” 

“Oh, no, my Phrygian Lily,” answered Philemon; 
“that must be some tradesman, for Tyrannus would 
never engage in conversation with slaves. ’ ’ 

“That is Paul himself,” said Nymphas, looking 
from the window. “Although he is a Roman citi- 
zen, he treats the Asiarch and the lowest slave with 
the same courtesy ; for he says all men are brothers 
in Christ Jesus.” 

Just then Paul entered, and Nymphas introduced 
him to the company. 

“My son has been telling me of your power as a 
teacher and your influence in the city. It must be 
a great pleasure to a public-spirited sophist like 
yourself to see the city crowded with the worship- 
ers of the goddess,” remarked Philemon by way 
of opening the conversation. 

Paul replied, “The power that I employ is not 
mine but Christ’s; for when I am weak then am I 


72 


ONESIMUS 


strong in him. I am glad to see the crowds, not 
because they are worshipers of Diana, but because 
such a festival is our sowings time, and you may be 
sure that the brethren will not allow such an occa- 
sion to pass unimproved. Archippus,” said he, 
turning to the young man, “you are interested in 
the Way; bring your parents to our assembly while 
they remain in the city. ’ ’ 

“We must seek refreshment now,” said Philemon, 
“but at some future time I should be glad to listen 
to the exposition of your doctrine. ’ ’ 

When this was said the company passed down the 
stairs and started for the house of Onesiphorus. 

“That must be the very shop from which my 
shrine of Diana came,” said Menodora, pausing 
before a grated window in which were tastefully 
arranged many images and shrines, made of gold, 
silver and copper, and over which was the inscrip- 
tion, “DEMETRIUS, THE SHRINE-SELLER.*’ 
“Come, my little girl,’’ said Philemon half play- 
fully, “you show yourself a country maiden. We 
must make haste. ’ ’ 

As the company moved on, a tall, dark man who 
had observed them from the rear of the shop, came 
to the door and gazed after them with great lustful 
eyes. “Beautiful, by all the gods!’’ he muttered. 
“The kind of girl I want.’’ 

And so the journey from Colosse was over. 
When the mother and daughter, bathed and re- 
freshed, were sitting in the women’s apartment of 
their lodging, Menodora said, “Oh, mother, it never 
seemed to me that the world was so large before. 


THE EVE OF THE FESTIVAL 


73 


We have been traveling as fast as a strong man can 
walk for four days, and we have only just arrived 
at our destination.” 

“Yes, the world is wide, my daughter. If you 
ever visit your mother’s old home in Attica, when 
you cross the barren sea, you will realize its size 
much more than you do now. When I came to 
Asia, your father’s bride, the ship was driven from 
its course by contary winds and, for a week we only 
saw sea and sky. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Oh, how dreadful ! ’ ’ exclaimed the girl. * ‘ I shall 
be worried to death if Archippus ever goes to 
Athens, and shall offer a stag to Diana for his pro- 
tection. ’ ’ 

“I hope that your brother may go to Athens, for 
no school of Ephesus is equal to the Porches of my 
native city for education. ’ ’ 

“Is Greece so very different from Asia, mother? 
It seems to me that nothing could be grander than 
the walls and streets and houses that we have passed 
to-day. ’ ’ 

“Yes the buildings of Ephesus are very grand 
and the temple of Diana, which we shall visit before 
our return, is perhaps equal to anything of its kind 
in the whole world ; but I love my native land and 
can never feel quite at home with the customs of 
Asia. ’ ’ 

“What difference in the customs is there, 
mother?’’ 

“The thing that struck me most at first, and 
which I have hardly become used to in twenty-five 
years, is the greater freedom of the women. In 


74 


ONESIMUS 


Greece no freeborn woman is ever seen on the 
street, and hardly would her husband’s friends see 
her in her own home ; but in Asia, you know, any 
woman goes out as she pleases, and she receives her 
husband’s guests, nay she even sits at table with 
them sometimes. ’ ’ 

“Well, I would rather live in Asia then, if I had 
to be shut up all the time. How did you ever 
happen to marry father when you lived way off 
there?’' 

“It was through your grandfather’s brother,’* 
replied Apphia; “he had traveled much throughout 
the East, and had met your other grandfather, your 
father’s father, on more than one occasion. I was 
a large girl then, sixteen years old, and my father 
had tried to arrange a marriage for me but had 
failed. He was becoming anxious about my future, 
when his brother arrived from Asia and told him he 
knew a merchant at Colosse, prosperous and honor- 
able, a Roman citizen and of rising fortunes, who 
desired to unite his son with a pure-blooded Greek ; 
for his tastes were Hellenic. So the matter was 
arranged, and your father came to Athens after me. 
I shall never forget how strangely I felt, curious 
and sorrowful, when he appeared. To leave my 
mother and sister was like tearing my heart from 
me, but your father is a kind husband and I am 
content. I never saw my mother afterward, and 
she is now a shade. My sister married a Macedo- 
nian and lives at Philippi, and time has healed the 
wounds that separation made. Sophocles speaks 
truly when he makes women say, ‘When we are 


THE EVE OF THE FESTIVAL 


75 


grown up, we are driven away from our parents and 
our parental gods. ’ ’ ’ 

“Oh, mother!" exclaimed Menodora, “will I have 
to marry some stranger and leave you and father 
and Archippus? I would rather die." 

“Trust me, my child," — smoothing back the fair 
hair from the white forehead, — “I shall never con- 
sent to your marriage with one who takes you very 
far away. Your father said, only recently, that it 
was time to find you a husband; but he will be 
guided in such matters by my advice." At this 
instant a slave announced a visitor in the court, 
desirous of seeing the ladies. 

“A visitor, at this hour!" exclaimed Apphia, 
reclasping the mantle on her shoulder, “who can 
it be?" 

“It is an image seller, Demetrius by name," 
answered the slave. 

“We will examine his wares," was the answer, 
“Let him enter." 

“I beg a thousand pardons for my intrusion upon 
the repose of beauty," said the man as he set his 
case upon the table. “The desire of gain brought 
me not hither at this hour, nor yet was it my pur- 
pose to lighten my darkness in a blaze of loveliness. 
I came to present for trifling cost a beautiful shrine 
of our goddess, whose protection is vouchsafed to 
its possessor. Will the noble lady buy?" drawing 
from the box an exquisitely - wrought shrine of 
silver, inlaid with ivory columns. 

“See," continued he, as the mother and daughter 
expressed their admiration, “the glory of the god- 


76 


ONESIMUS 


dess within. ” At the touch of a spring the doors 
flew open and a golden Diana appeared. 

“It is very flne work and I doubt not will bring 
good luck, ’ ’ said Apphia, testing the quality of the 
metal with her finger ring. “But we have a shrine 
similar to this at home, and therefore do not need 
this one. ’ ’ 

“It is only two hundred drachmae,” urged De- 
metrius, in a liquid voice. 

“Two hundred drachmae? Then it cannot be true 
silver, for if genuine it is worth at least four hun- 
dred. ' ’ 

“Nay, O lady, I have made a vow to sell for half 
price the finest shrine in my shop to the fairest lady 
whom I should see to-day. ’ ' 

“So your judgment decided that we were the 
fairest,” replied Apphia, amused. “When did you 
see us?” 

“As you passed my humble door I thanked the 
goddess that my quest was not in vain. ’ ’ 

“Which one of us is it?” laughed Menodora, shak- 
ing her golden curls. 

“My child,” replied her mother, “do not make 
this man another Paris. Such discussions led to 
the Trojan war and deluged Asia with blood.” 

“I cannot refuse a thing so cheap,” continued 
she. “Here is the price of the shrine.” 

Still the stranger lingered. 

“My devotion to our goddess,” said the soft voice, 
“is so great, that I cannot forbear to present a gift 
to the Star of Colosse, a charm guaranteed to shield 
the most lovely from all dangers in this wicked city. 


THE EVE OF THE FESTIVAL 


77 


Here is a ring formed of a golden serpent, bearing 
on its jewelled crown mysterious Ephesian letters.” 

Before Menodora could realize his purpose the 
ring was upon her finger, and the cold hand was 
holding hers, while the great dark eyes seemed to 
gaze into her soul. 

“Is it not beautiful? But its beauty is lost in 
comparison with this. ’ ’ 

Menodora drew her hand away. 

“Not so small a favor for one so old and so 
thoughtful of your welfare? Look, my dear girl, 
upon this ring ; thank the goddess for its protection, 
and forget not the unworthy giver. ’ ’ 

“Sir,” said Apphia, interrupting, “the ring is 
doubtless costly, and we appreciate your kindness, 
but the daughter of a freeborn Colossian receives 
not gifts from strangers. Menodora, give him back 
the ring. ’ ’ 

“The noble lady is very cruel,” replied Deme- 
trius, flushing. ‘ ‘ Beware how you despise the token 
of the goddess’ favor.” 

“Oh, mother, the ring is so pretty!” 

“Menodora, give him back the ring. To you. Sir, 
good-night. ’ ’ 

“The she-wolf’s cub is very fair,” muttered the 
seller of images as he glided from the room. 

When the door had closed, Apphia said, “My 
daughter, you are yet young and cannot understand 
the ways of wicked men. But you must never allow 
a man to look at you the way he did, especially a 
stranger. ’ ’ 

“But, mother, he was nearly as old as father, and 


78 


ONESIMUS 


the ring was so beautiful. I did not think he could 
mean any harm. ’ ’ 

“Trust your mother, my child, in such matters. 
Forget the event, but remember the lesson. Now, 
good-night, and may the gods give you pleasant 
dreams. ’ ’ 

“I am at your disposal as guide,” said Nymphas, 
when the conversation turned on the coming fes- 
tival — Philemon and the students were lounging in 
the bath. “To-morrow there are oratorical contests 
in the theater, followed by an exhibition of skill by 
Apollonius of Tyana. He is, as you are perhaps 
aware, master of the magicians lately returned from 
the far East, filled with all hidden wisdom. Your- 
self and family will certainly wish to be present. 
The next day there are feats of strength and races 
in the stadium which you must not miss ; although 
I regret to say that the noble Apphia and the fair 
Menodora will not be allowed to behold the per- 
formance. The third day is a day of feasting when 
every slave is free, and all order is abandoned. 
Ourselves and guests are invited to a banquet by 
Glaukos, the Asiarch, on that occasion.” 

“Yes,” broke in Archippus, “he gave me this 
tablet to present to you, father. ’ ’ 

Philemon took the tablet and read : 

To the Lord Philemon of Colosse, to him and his, greeting: — 
1, Glaukos, citizen and Asiarch of the Ionic cities, request thee 
to honor us by thy presence at the feast at the fifth hour, the 
third day of Diana's festival. Allow me to repay in part my 
debt of hospitality to thee. 

“He is a true lord and an honest man,” said 


THE EVE OF THE FESTIVAL 


79 


Philemon. “Never did a better Asiarch exhibit 
games at Colosse. There it was that I learned to 
know and respect the man. We shall be glad to be 
his guests. 

“Archippus, the slaves need a holiday as well as 
we. The third- day custom has decreed it to them ; 
but let the holiday extend throughout the whole 
festival for all except Castor my own body servant. 
Distribute this purse of silver among them, and tell 
them they are free to the third day at the twelfth 
hour. ’ ’ 

Great was the rejoicing in the lower court when 
the message was delivered and the money divided 
among the assembled slaves. 

“Now then, you slaves,” cried Onesimus from 
his seat on a wine -jar, “you are going to be free for 
three days and you whimper your thanks to the 
master as if it were a great favor; but I tell you, 
I was going to be free any way; I had made up my 
mind to that. It might mean a beating at the end 
of it, but my shoulders are tough. 

“By Diana, I wish that old Jew Alexander was 
less strict. My little Rachel would make a fine 
companion for a carousal. But she is fast. The 
old circumcised dog would not let me into his shop 
if he knew I courted his daughter. Hercules break 
me, if I believe so fair a flower was begotten by the 
old yellow skin ! 

“Ah! ho!” — throwing up one coin after another 
into the air — “it’s freedom for three days. It’s wine 
and women and games, with no Archippus to say, 
‘Onesimus, fold my mantle.’ ‘Onesimus, clean my 


8o 


ONESIMUS 


sandals.’ ‘Onesimus, here, and Onesimns, there.* 
I hate slavery and I love freedom. ’ ’ 

“Do you know what freedom is, Onesimus?’* 
asked Tychicus. 

“Know what freedom is? Well, I suppose it is 
to do as you please.’’ 

“I, too, used to think so,” replied the other, “and 
I never found freedom. If I had a holiday, some- 
how, something always spoiled it; and when I 
thought I did as I pleased, there was always a head- 
ache or a heartache after it. But at last I became 
acquainted with the Christians and heard Paul 
preach. Through them I became acquainted with 
Christ, who came ‘to give deliverance to the cap- 
tives and the opening of the prison to them who are 
bound. ’ So I found that a man might be free, yet 
the worse slave; or a slave, and yet a free man. 
For to be a slave is not to wear a fetter, but to love 
a sin ; and to be free, is not to do as you please, but 
as Christ pleases. I shall use my holiday to-morrow 
in distributing sheets of papyrus that contain the 
summary of the Gospel, written by many willing 
hands, from the mouth of Paul. So I shall be free, 
for I am doing Christ’s will; and what he wants me 
to do, that I want to do. If I should be at my daily 
work, however, it would make no difference; for 
I know that it would be his will, and so that would 
be my pleasure. As Paul once said in my hearing, 
‘He that is called, being a slave, is the Lord’s 
freedman. ’ ” 

“Umph,” replied Onesimus contemptuously, 
“even if you Christians were free, you would turn 


THE EVE OF THE FESTIVAL 


8i 


into slaves again, for you hug a fetter as if it were 
Diana’s bracelet, and your symbol is a cross. As 
for that Paul about whom you talk so much, I have 
heard him again and again, and know that he has 
about turned the heads of Archippus, Nymphas and 
Epaphras, and even the old sophist himself. I sup- 
pose when we are all converted, there will not be 
even a three-day play spell in honor of Diana, but 
work, work, work ; and for rest a snuffle of Psalms. 
It is bad enough to be slaves in body, as we all are ; 
but, Pluto take me, when I lose my freedom of 
mind as you have done. Oh, it is wine and women 
and games, and that is to be free. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER VI 


GREAT IS DIANA OF THE EPHESIANS! 

The modern traveler who stands amid the ruins of 
the agora of Ephesus looks upon a scene of desola- 
tion. Beneath his feet are the remains of pavements, 
once trodden by the feet of men who made the earth 
to tremble. On one side a filthy marsh marks the 
site of that harbor which bore the commerce of 
western Asia upon its ample bosom, while the dome 
of Coressus and the range of Prion, crowned with 
buildings at the time of our- story, are now a tangle 
of thickets to the very summit. On the east are 
the ruins of the great theater, the largest remains of 
this kind in any of Rome’s provinces. A great 
dilapidated wall, hoary with age, encircles the side 
of a hill, made more convex by the toil of hands 
long since dust in the chambers of darkness and 
silence. The statues which of old adorned this wall 
are fallen from their places, and when the visitor 
through the crumbling arch has entered the door, 
he seems to be within the crater of an extinct vol- 
cano, rather than in a building devoted to the arts 
of the poets. Not one of the myriad seats is left in 
place; while the proscenium, on which the actors 
performed, and from which the town clerk addressed 
the people on the day when Demetrius and the silver- 
smiths with him raised their uproar against Paul, is 
82 


GREAT IS DIANA OF THE EPHESIANS 83 


nothing but a hill of ruins. Solitude, silence, reign 
on every hand. 

A very different spectacle engaged the eye of the 
traveler on that May morning long ago. The 
forum, surrounded by stately buildings, was filled 
with people. True, the shops of the merchants 
were closed, excepting those that provided food and 
drink, which the thirsty multitudes would be sure to 
want before the day was ended. Tricksters, game- 
sters, fortune-tellers and every class of that large 
fraternity which thrive upon the folly and credulity 
of society, were in abundance, plying their trade on 
every hand. Under the shadow of the theater a 
puppet man, with practiced hand, was directing the 
movements of tiny figures, which danced upon the 
pavement to the infinite delight of the Ephesian 
small boy. Yonder, another was gathering his 
copper harvest, after having mysteriously swallowed 
half a dozen swords, and gathered eggs from the 
turbans of the astonished beholders. On the other 
side a company of trained monkeys were perform- 
ing feats of agility upon a pole, which might well 
make the circus actor turn green with envy. 

Stout peasants from the country, accompanied by 
wives and children, munched cakes and stared at 
the wonders of the traveling juggler. Grave and 
decent citizens from the neighboring Ionic cities 
passed amid the crowds on their way to the seats 
reserved for them within the theater. Burly sailors 
from the port swore strange oaths, and drank abun- 
dantly at the wine-stalls. Foreigners from the 
banks of the Euphrates and from distant Spain 


84 


ONESIMUS 


jostled each other in the throng. Cutthroats and 
robbers skulked along the walls, and leered mean- 
ingly at the costly mantles and well- filled girdles of 
the honest burghers. Troops of fast young men, 
already drunk, quarreled along the street, while 
companies of gayly-dressed girls, whose demeanor 
proclaimed their class, ogled them from every cor- 
ner. 

And now the blast of trumpets proclaimed the 
coming of the procession and the people scattered 
to the walls on either side. 

First appeared a company of soldiers, their bronze 
helmets casting back the light of the morning sun, 
while above their heads shone the golden eagles of 
Rome. Behind them came a car, gorgeously 
painted, and borne by eight slaves. As it passed 
the people raised a shout, for upon it rode the pro- 
consul, Rome’s representative in their midst. The 
shout of praise became a roar of applause as the 
Asiarchs, clad in royal purple, each seated on a 
gilded chair borne by four, passed among them. 
By their munificence the entertainment was pro- 
vided. Next came a company of white-robed, bare- 
foot priests, chanting in unison; and closely fol- 
lowing them a host of priestesses, whose clanging 
cymbals drowned the noise of the crowds. Behind 
these were the dignitaries and chief estates of Asia, 
in litters and upon horses; while a squad of soldiery 
brought up the rear. 

“Great is Diana of the Ephesians!” roared the 
multitudes traveling beside and behind the pro- 
cession. 


GREAT IS DIANA OF THE EPHESIANS 85 

“How great must be our goddess for whom is all 
this honor, ’ ’ remarked one peasant to a man who 
stood by him in the crowd, a bundle of papyrus 
sheets in his hand. 

The one addressed seemed to look beyond the 
crowd, and his reply seemed strangely inappropri- 
ate, “For he must reign till he hath put all enemies 
under his feet. ” 

When the great procession had entered within the 
theater, and those for whom special seats of honor 
were reserved had taken their places, the doors were 
thrown open and the multitude surged in. 

From our place by the orchestra, where already a 
chorus of priestesses are chanting hymns to Diana, 
we look up at the great sea of encircling faces, rank 
above rank, to the place where the outer wall rises 
above the last tier of heads and cuts the blue sky. 
Nearest to us are the seats of the city officials and 
of their distinguished guests, and of the priestly 
orders. Further away we see the faces of citizens 
and of the free people ; yes, we even catch sight of 
familiar faces. Philemon and Apphia sit proud and 
complacent, and Archippus, leaning toward his 
mother, points out this or that eminent person, at 
whom she gazes through a small cut crystal in her 
right hand. On the other side the graceful form of 
Nymphas is bending over the back of Menodora’s 
chair, while her eyes follow every expression of his 
handsome face. 

If the society reporter of a modern paper had been 
present at the festival of Diana, he could have 
described no costumes more beautiful than were 


86 


ONESIMUS 


those of the wife and daughter of the wealthy citi- 
zen of Colosse, Philemon, the wool merchant. 

The older woman was enveloped in a robe of 
white linen, embroidered on the skirt with flowers 
of beaten gold. This garment extended from her 
foot to the shoulder, at which the back and front 
were clasped by gilded butterflies. The excess of 
material was folded over her bosom, and bore on its 
lower edge a border of exquisite yellow tracery. 
Her arms were enclosed in the folds of the ample 
robe by a series of loops through which the white 
skin gleamed. This dress was the chiton, perhaps 
the most graceful garment that ever half revealed 
and half concealed the beauty of the female form. 

Around the shoulder was loosely flung a purple 
mantle, or himaton of wool, its color appearing more 
rich because of its proximity to the purity of the 
dress. 

The dark mass of hair was gathered in a knot 
upon the shapely head, and adorned with a jeweled 
star. 

Doubtless Nymphas could have best described the 
dress of Menodora, for his eyes observed every 
detail, from the little white shoe which encased the 
slender foot, to the gilded fillet which encircled 
the golden hair. 

Her chiton was of the same form as that of her 
mother, but the material was of pale blue silk, glit- 
tering with brilliant stars. Few maidens in Colosse, 
nay, few maidens in Ephesus, possessed such a 
garment. Across the deserts of central Asia, over 
the plains of Babylonia, and amid the mountain 


GREAT IS DIANA OF THE EPHESIANS 87 

passes of Asia Minor, it had been borne on the back 
of the patient camel. Philemon was very proud of 
his daughter, and he had procured this garment for 
the occasion, even though the expense lightened his 
heavy purse. 

Around the beautiful shoulders was wrapped a 
himaton of white wool. 

Far up we look to the topmost row of seats, given 
up to slaves and artisans. No familiar face can we 
recognize at first. Ah, yes, there is Onesimus, clad 
in a mantle of showy red, evidently new to-day, his 
brow encircled by a garland. Close to him, nay 
even resting on his lap, is a woman gaudily arrayed 
and bespangled with cheap jewelry. The paint 
upon her face ill conceals its natural coarseness of 
expression. Although Rachel may be mistress of 
Onesimus’ affections, he evidently finds pleasure in 
the smile of another when hers is impossible. 

And now the priest, who had been engaged in 
offering sacrifices, announced the omens propitious, 
and the chorus broke forth again into a hymn. 
Then the new Asiarch stepped out upon the stage, 
and, amid a roar of applause, congratulated the people 
on the occasion, and declared the exercises opened. 

First there were exhibitions of dancing and pan- 
tomime, through which the people maintained their 
interest. Then came contests of singing and poetry, 
through which the crowd sat with scant patience ; 
and at last murmurs, begun upon the topmost seat, 
became a cry that sounded throughout the whole 
theater — “Apollonius, our Apollonius, favored of 
Diana ! Let us see Apollonius ! ’ ’ 


88 


ONESIMUS 


The Asiarch in charge moved nervously upon his 
chair, and the poet of the hour hastened toward the 
conclusion of his poem. 

At last the Asiarch arose and said, “Ye men of 
Ephesus, all present, worshipers of the great Diana, 
not often is Ephesus more honored than when she 
is allowed to see and praise one whom Apollo loves, 
and whom the great Diana has deigned to take into 
her confidence. He was great before; thrice great 
is he now, returned like Bacchus from his journey 
to the East, Apollonius of Tyana, Master of the 
Magicians!” 

As he ceased, through a door behind the stage 
came a lion, led by two slaves, and drawing a car, 
in which sat a tall figure dressed in black skins and 
holding a crooked wand in his hand. 

“I am Apollonius, Master of the Magicians,” said 
the man, rising to what seemed an almost super- 
natural height, and casting his black hood back over 
his shoulders. 

‘ ‘ At my birth the seven stars danced, and a chorus 
of swans sang. To me the great Diana has entrusted 
her secrets, for with her I daily commune. The 
great mother of the gods has presented to me a lion, 
with which I travel from the river of India to the 
ends of the earth. Brahmins from beyond the lim- 
its of Alexander’s empire, Magi of Persia, priests of 
Egypt, and Druids of the far North are my 
teachers. 

“Behold the power which Diana has bestowed 
upon me to make the earth to bud!” 

Having spoken thus, he placed some seeds in 


GREAT IS DIANA OF THE EPHESIANS 89 


a pot of earth, and lo, as the people watched, 
they sprouted and became a plant before their 
eyes. 

“Ye see the power which the goddess of spring 
has given me over nature ; behold my power over 
the beasts!” 

“Leo,” said he, addressing the lion which sat 
upon his haunches beside him, “tell the people of 
Diana, and of her gifts to me.” 

“Great is Diana of the Ephesians!” came a shrill 
voice from the motionless lips of the lion. “Leto- 
born, and fallen from Jupiter! All power upon my 
master Apollonius has she conferred, and he is daily 
her delight, so that she would take him to herself 
were it not for her vow of chastity. I, her servant, 
am given to Apollonius to do his will. Great is 
Apollonius of Tyana!” 

“Ye have seen my power over nature and over 
beasts,” continued the magician, “a power which I 
could multiply a hundred fold if necessary ; now see 
my power over men, for it belongs to me to kill and 
to make alive. ’ ’ 

When he had said this, one of the slaves, appar- 
ently with much trembling, stepped within a large 
wicker hamper and the top was closed. Apollonius 
took a sword, and with the words, “Die! Die!” he 
plunged it again and again through the basket. At 
first there were groans and cries from within, and 
then all was still ; but the lion licked the blood which 
ran down upon the stage. 

Apollonius then said with a smile, “I make alive! 
Epanymus, come forth!” and the much-stabbed 


90 


ONESIMUS 


slave stepped forth sound and well, while the thea- 
ter thundered with applause. 

“But one more sign will I show to you,” said 
Apollonius, “for at the eighth hour I am summoned 
to a banquet of the gods on Mount Olympus. 
Doubt ye that the goddess loves me and wishes to 
espouse me to herself, when she, at my prayer, is 
willing to unveil her charms to men? 

“O great Diana, beloved by me; by whom I am 
beloved; show thy beauties to thy worshipers for 
my sake. Hear, O Diana, born of Leto, hear!” he 
cried, waving his arms in the air. 

As he spoke a shadow seemed to pass across the 
stage and hovering in the center to take form. The 
immense audience became quiet and awe-stricken, 
as the form of the Grecian Diana, clad in a short 
gown, her bow in hand, appeared in the air above 
the stage. 

When the silence became oppressive, Apollonius 
said, “O Diana, show thyself in patron form to thy 
worshipers of Ephesus. ’ ’ 

Gradually the figure faded away in the shadow, 
but in its place appeared the many-breasted, gro- 
tesque form of the Ephesian Diana. 

“It is enough,” said Apollonius, his voice sound- 
ing hollow in the breathless silence, “I join thee, O 
goddess, presently, on Olympus.” 

Slowly the vision faded, and when it was gone a 
roar of applause rent the air from orchestra to 
velarium, “Great is Diana of the Ephesians! Great 
is Apollonius, beloved of Diana!” 

“Ye have seen that which has been granted to 


GREAT IS DIANA OF THE EPHESIANS 91 


few mortals heretofore,” said Diana’s chief priest, 
arising with a sarcastic smile upon his face. 

“For the sake of her beloved the goddess shows 
her charms to brutish mortals. What say ye? Can 
we deny to him whom the gods so honor, a place 
among themselves? Shall we not greet the beloved 
of Diana with a title suited to his rank? 

“All hail to thee, O god Apollonius!” 

“Hail to the god Apollonius! hail to the new 
divinity!” was the cry; as the multitudes rose from 
their seats, and waved hands, canes and mantles in 
the air. 

‘I must away to Olympus,” said Apollonius, as 
the crowd surged toward the proscenium; and, 
seeming to grow taller as he retired, he disappeared 
through the door. 

“Ye did well and it was a great success,” said the 
chief priest, in a low voice to two attendants who 
pressed near him in the crowd. “The machine for 
the vision was so complicated that I feared a failure. 
But the spread of the doctrine which Paul preaches 
is so rapid that the herd must see the goddess or 
they will lose all faith in her. Ye have done a great 
service to-day. Hold your tongues and ye shall be 
richly rewarded. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER VII 


VENUS IN THE GROVES OF DIANA 

“You say you are not going to the stadium with 
us to-day?” 

The speaker was Archippus, and the person 
addressed was Nymphas. The two friends were 
leisurely eating their breakfast of cakes, figs and 
wine. 

“Well, no,” was the reply. “Your father, Tyran- 
nus, yourself and many others of your friends will 
make a jolly company. You can easily spare me, 
and Epaphras can take my place.” 

“Epaphras, as you know, is already half a Chris- 
tian, a Catechumen, I think they call him. It is 
against his principles longer to attend these games. 
He was up betimes this morning and went off with 
Timothy and the others to some meeting that they 
have to-day beyond the city walls. ’ ’ 

“We might do worse than follow his example, my 
Archippus. ’ ’ 

Archippus shrugged his shoulders. “As you say, 
we might do worse ; but I like my sports and the 
honors of life a little too well. Before me is a bril- 
liant career. Oratory still sways the multitudes; 
and for the skilled teacher of rhetoric there is fame 
and honor. If I were a Christian I should have to 
be a preacher of the Gospel like Paul, who, in spite 
92 


VENUS IN THE GROVES OF DIANA 93 


of ability and worth, receives scant reward for his 
pains. However, that is not here nor there. Why 
do you not attend us at the stadium?” 

‘‘Your mother desires to visit the groves of Diana 
— your mother and Menodora. She — that is, they — 
cannot attend the exercises in the stadium, for 
women are not allowed. Their stay in Ephesus is 
short, and I offered to guide them about the groves 
and the temple of Diana to-day. ’ ’ 

Thus it came to pass that while father and son 
were watching with eager eyes the races in the sta- 
dium, the mother and daughter, with Nymphas as 
guide and protector, passed out of the Coressian 
gate and entered the groves of Diana. 

“Oh!” cried Menodora, her girlish face lit up with 
delight, “I never saw such a beautiful place in all 
my life !” 

“Well you may say so, my daughter, for we are 
within the sacred grounds of that goddess whose 
vision was so marvelously revealed to our eyes yes- 
terday. ” 

The spectacle upon which they looked was sur- 
passingly beautiful. They had passed a moat of 
clear water, from the inner bank of which arose a 
low balustrade of marble, sculptured in high relief 
Before them extended an avenue of powdered shell, 
soft as velvet to the foot, unyielding as granite to 
the wheel. Along it troops of lightly-clad priest- 
esses were dancing and singing songs. Little chil- 
dren, dressed only in laurel wreaths, advanced, 
singing and strewing flowers before the approaching 
guests. Two large stags, much begarlanded, and 


94 


ONESIMUS 


bound by golden chains, were being led by a party of 
priests to the altar. 

At the end of the way their eyes rested upon the 
temple of the great Diana, one of the seven wonders 
of the world. It was not so much the height or 
massiveness of the structure that impressed them, as 
the light beauty of the architecture and the profu- 
sion of adornment. A wilderness of stately slender 
columns, dazzling white, appeared before them. 
Many of these seemed to grow naturally from the 
hands of nymphs and graces, and to bear as fruit an 
army of Amazons, demigods and heroes, against the 
glistening background of the frieze. Delicate tra- 
cery of honeysuckle and of emblematic figures 
adorned the whole. The inner wall of the cella 
seemed far away beyond the marble forest, while 
the smoke from Diana’s altar, in the center of the 
stony grove, arose toward heaven. 

“I wish you to take a good look down the portico,” 
said Nymphas, when at last they had mounted the 
broad stair and stood facing the pro-naos. 

Shall we stand with them, O reader, and behold 
the scene? We see before us a small marble build- 
ing, elaborately adorned with sculpture and color, 
situated between rows of graceful Ionic columns. 
It is as if we stood within a wood of stately firs on 
some wintry morning. The ground beneath our 
feet is covered with crusted whiteness ; and every 
smooth trunk, encased in ice, sparkles in the sun- 
shine, while the boughs above form the supports of 
a canopy of glittering snow. 

“How white they are!” said Menodora, when she 





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VENUS IN THE GROVES OF DIANA 95 


found tongue to express her admiration of the vista 
opening before her. 

“Yes, the temple is built of purest marble, quar- 
ried on Mount Prion,” replied Nymphas. “The 
story is that when the Ephesians were planning their 
first temple, some seven centuries ago, the archi- 
tects were at a loss to discover a suitable quarry 
near enough at hand. While pressed by this 
dilemma, a shepherd named Pixodorus came running 
to them bringing a piece of fairest marble, which 
one of his rams had broken with his horns from the 
cliff.” 

“Fortunate discovery,” declared Apphia; “evi- 
dently the hand of the goddess was revealed in that 
providence. ’ ’ 

“Yes,” said Nymphas, “the people changed his 
name to Evangelus, and afterward paid him divine 
honors, as we decreed yesterday to Apollonius when 
he wrought his spells for the benefit of the priest- 
hood. ’ ’ 

“And rightly, too,” answered Apphia. “When 
one is able to bring immortals within the view of 
mortals, he must be worthy of divine honor. Why 
do you smile?” 

“I smiled to think how easily the multitudes are 
deceived by tricks, and how foolish to suppose that 
the Godhead is like to the images of superstition. 
It is absurd to imagine that the great First Cause 
would assume the form of a short-gowned huntress, 
or of a many-breasted female.” 

“You speak as a philosopher, young man, and I 
cannot gainsay you ; but I regret that my Archippus 


96 


ONESIMUS 


and you both seem to have acquired a kind of con- 
tempt for holy things. Do not forsake the gods of 
your fathers. ’ ’ 

“No,” replied Nymphas, with a sigh, “at least 
not till I can find something better. But to my 
mind it appears that Paul, who tells the story of 
divine love for sinners and of salvation from sin, 
has a better right to the name Evangelus — bearer of 
good news — than had the shepherd who found the 
marble quarry. ’ ’ 

“I know nothing of Paul,” answered Apphia, 
“but I think the teaching of our fathers is good 
enough for us. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Do not let us spoil this holiday by argument, ’ ’ 
broke in Menodora. “Come, tell us, Nymphas, all 
about the temple and the worship in it. ’ ’ 

“There is a proverb that the sun in his course 
sees nothing else so beautiful as Diana’s shrine. 
This proverb I believed till the eve of this festival,” 
remarked Nymphas, coloring. “But if you wish to 
hear about this temple I will tell you. 

‘ ‘The earliest Greek settlers of Asia, as anciently as 
the Trojan war, found this spot sacred to an Asian 
goddess of the earth, not unlike your own Phrygian 
Cybele. They connected her worship with that of 
Artemis, and as such she is know to-day ; only with 
the influx of the Romans she has obtained her new 
name of Diana. But after all, what is in a name? 
Our goddess Artemis, or Diana of Ephesus, is the 
fructifying power of the earth, so that we celebrate 
her festival most appropriately in this month of 
May. Therefore, also, while the ox and stag are 


VENUS IN THE GROVES OF DIANA 97 


sacred to her, her most unique symbol is the bee, 
because it gathers a store of summer sweetness 
against the winter’s cold. For this reason also she 
is many-breasted, since from the breast of Mother 
Earth we all draw our nourishment. Sister, or even 
wife, she is called, of Apollo, for as he, like the sun, 
is the male force of nature, she, like the moon, 
represents the female power. So her priests are 
eunuchs, and her priestesses — the bees we call them 
— are vowed to virginity. Thus you see, my lady 
Apphia, that I am almost as great a theologian as 
Hesiod, and I deny the charge of atheism as vehe- 
mently as Socrates. I, too, am learning to see God 
everywhere, and perhaps I should not be unwilling 
to offer a sacrifice to Diana, as the symbol of Deity, 
bringing in the spring. What I oppose is the folly 
of mistaking the symbol for the reality. ’ ' 

“Do not let us talk philosophy,’’ said Menodora, 
“tell all about the temple.’’ 

“Oh, yes, I am certainly abstracted — the sign of 
a lover or of a sophist” — looking at Menodora. “It 
is only right that at Diana’s festival you should 
hear about her dwelling-place, which is at once a 
shrine, a bank for untold treasures, and a place of 
refuge for criminals and the oppressed. ’ ’ 

“How is that?’’ asked Apphia. 

“None,” replied Nymphas, “would dare to touch 
with profane hands that which is under the protec- 
tion of the goddess, and therefore men of wealth 
are accustomed to store their gold and silver in the 
vaults beneath our feet. As far out as that second 
balustrade is holy ground ; so that no hand of the 


98 


ONESIMUS 


law can reach those who are within these precincts. 
Do you see those evil -looking men sitting against 
that southern wall? They are probably criminals 
who are only waiting for night to make their escape 
from the city. ’ ’ 

“What dreadful looking men!” said Menodora. 

“Well,” continued Nymphas, “as I said, the earli- 
est Greek colonists of Asia found this a sacred spot, 
though whether there was a temple here at that 
time I cannot tell. But before the time of Croesus, 
the architect, Theodore of Samos, had laid deep the 
foundations of this mighty pile in the marshy ground 
of the winding Cayster. Asia and Greece contrib- 
uted to the building, through a long course of years. 
At last, amid universal rejoicing, the temple was 
completed, and the poet Timotheus sang the praises 
of the occasion. ’ ’ 

“How long ago was that?” asked Menodora. 

‘ ‘ It must be about four hundred and fifty years, ’ ’ 
answered Nymphas. 

“Why that is an age, and the temple looks as if it 
was just completed yesterday.” 

“Oh, my Phrygian Lily, the temple of which I 
was speaking is not the one in whose portico we now 
stand. On the night of the birth of Alexander the 
Great, a knave, called Herostratus, set fire to it and 
it was burned to the ground. He confessed that he 
did it to render himself immortal, and he seems to 
have gained his wish. ’ ’ 

“Better an honorable oblivion than an immortality 
of disgrace,” observed Apphia. 

“This worthy structure was then erected,” said 


VENUS IN THE GROVES OF DIANA 99 


Nymphas, “and even noble ladies gave their jewels 
towards defraying the expense. Alexander offered 
enough treasure to buy a kingdom, if he might be 
allowed to engrave his name upon the frieze, but 
his offer was not accepted. Year by year the priests 
find some improvement possible, and so while the 
shrine itself is centuries old, the temple is never 
done. * ’ 

“What improvements are being made at present?" 
asked Apphia. 

“Just at present the grounds are being adorned 
with flowers and statuary; but I understand that 
the next great change will be a covered portico 
leading from the city to this stair. ’ ’ 

“We may wish it was built before we get home," 
said Menodora; “see how black the western sky is." 

It was even so, the sun, which had been shining 
brightly in the west when they entered the portico, 
was hidden in black clouds which rolled up from 
the .^gean, while flashes of lightning and rumblings 
of distant thunder proclaimed the coming storm. 

“Let us take refuge within the temple," said 
Menodora, frightened at the aspect of the heavens. 

“Oh, no," answered Nymphas, “for none but the 
initiated may enter there ; but I know a way to the 
city through the groves, shorter than by the avenue. 
Let us hasten." 

Under the tall firs, amid well-kept shrubs and 
flower-beds, past statues of gods and shrines of 
heroes, they walked with quick steps. The gardens 
were nearly deserted by priests and people, and so 
their progress was rapid. Not fast enough to out- 


100 


ONESIMUS 


run the storm, however; for just as they approached 
the bridge of the Selinus, it burst upon them. 

“Quick, this way!” cried Nymphas,^s he cast his 
own mantle over Menodora, and darted toward a 
little grotto, the entrance of which was seen through 
the trees. 

It was only a small recess, one of many artificial 
resting places provided by the priests for the benefit 
of the public ; but within was a seat and above was 
shelter from the rain, and they were content. An 
old woman clad in black had already found shelter 
within, and so the four awaited together the passing 
of the shower. 

“Ye are worshipers of the goddess,” said the 
hag with a leer, “and yet me think ye should offer a 
dove to Venus rather than a stag to Leto-bom 
Diana.” 

“Silence, mother!” said Apphia; “this girl is my 
daughter and we have visited the temple under 
escort of this young sophist, who belongs to a neigh- 
boring town with us. ’ ’ 

“Ye may be the mother of one now, but ye soon 
shall be of both,” said the beldam, while Menodora 
blushed crimson and Nymphas dropped his eyes. 

“Come, mother/' said he, “since you are a sibyl, 
tell me my fortune and you shall have this silver.” 

The hag’s eyes brightened at the gleam of the coin 
and she fumbled in her bosom for a parchment roll. 

“This roll,” said she, “contains the genuine 
Ephesian letters, which none may read but such as 
have caught a glimpse of the goddess in her groves. 
Bound upon the person they render one strong, and 


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VENUS IN THE GROVES OF DIANA loi 


to him that knows their meaning they reveal the 
future. Alack-a-day! the goddess is angry at her 
worshipers because the despisers of her words 
increase in Ephesus. Nay, by the preaching of the 
Crucified, many of the priests and even of the 
manteisare perverted from her way,” 

“Hark ye,” interrupted Nymphas, “I asked not 
thy opinion of Jesus, the Crucified, but concerning 
my own future. ’ ’ 

“The faithful believer shall not go unrewarded,” 
replied the witch; and seating herself she rubbed 
the roll several times across her forehead. 

Then looking intently at the mystic script, she 
said, “Rich, noble, poor, lost, by poverty wealth, 
by loss gain. I see thy wife of noble birth rejoicing 
with thee. Thou art even now turning” — with a 
motion of her skeleton hand toward Menodora — 
“and ye shall both be turned.” 

“Come, come,” said Apphia, rather annoyed at 
the reference to her daughter, “the rain has nearly 
ceased, let us be going. ’ ’ 

The company in the grotto were not the only 
persons whom the sudden shower had driven to a 
temporary shelter. The streets, which had been 
filled with merry-makers, many of whom were drunk 
and disorderly, were now deserted. Only occasion- 
ally did a pedestrian pick his way amid the pools of 
water, or the covered litter of some wealthy reveler 
pass, borne by dripping slaves. 

Beneath one of the dark arches of the great 
stadium loitered three sturdy men. Each wore a 
sleeveless leathern tunic, too short to reach the tops 


102 


ONESIMUS 


of his heavy boots. Over each shaggy head was 
drawn a cap of hog’s hide, half concealing the brutal 
features of the wearer. They were armed with 
stout clubs. 

“By Hercules!” cried one of the ruffians, “how it 
rains ! ’ ’ 

“Thou sayest true, my Demonax,” replied the 
other. “The image-seller cannot expect us to catch 
his lady love in such weather as this. Pluto take 
me if I like this little business, anyway. It is dan- 
gerous to steal a high-born lady, even if Demetrius 
does wish it. ’ ’ 

“Coward!” muttered his companion, tapping his 
club on the stone. “It is time for me to leave the 
city anyway. When once my girdle is filled with 
the old knave’s silver, they will hunt for me in 
Ephesus a long time before they find me. Deme- 
trius can have his sport, cover his tracks, or face the 
music; just as he pleases.” 

“You say well,” answered the third; “he need 
not think that the contract includes, beside carrying 
off the girl, explaining the matter to the proconsul. ” 

“Hercules break me!” ejaculated the other, who 
had been peering down the rapidly darkening street ; 
“there comes that fool, Onesimus, slave to the 
maiden’s brother.” 

“Ah! Onesimus” — as that youth stopped opposite 
the arch — “come under this shelter and have a 
friendly drop. ’ ’ 

Onesimus already had many drops upon his coat, 
and to judge by his manner, too many within him. 
So he replied thickly, “By Bacchus, that I will.” 


VENUS IN THE GROVES OF DIANA 103 


The man handed him a flask, from which he 
drank heavily. 

“I suppose you have seen many new hetaerae 
within the last two days,” remarked his friend, 
winking at his companions. 

“Not one good enough for me,” replied Onesi- 
mus, “none but Rachel, and she is tied.” 

“By Hercules!” then it is time there were some 
new ones. Do you know of any girl who would 
like to enter the profession?” 

“Master’s daughter,” answered the drunken 
slave, a dim sense of the absurdity of the statement 
impressing itself as a witticism upon his beclouded 
mind. 

“You have had enough from that flask,” said the 
fellow, taking it from him; “if you drink more you 
will not be able to answer questions. Where will 
we find her?” 

“She went with Nymphas and her mother to 
Diana’s Temple to-day. Must be on their way 
home now.” 

“Venus sends luck!” exclaimed his questioner. 
“Two women and one man and the street dark and 
deserted.” 

The three men left Onesimus leaning stupidly 
against the wall while they conferred together in 
whispers. 

At last one said, “Come, Onesimus, the rain has 
stopped. Take my arm and go along with us. 

So they passed down the street. 

The ladies and their escort continued their way 
through the dripping groves amid the shadows of 


104 


ONESIMUS 


evening. By the time their sodden sandals were 
within the gate it was quite dark. 

“How great the difference between the present 
scene and that of a bright market morning,” 
observed Apphia, putting her arm around her 
daughter’s waist. 

“By all the gods!” roared a voice, “Onesimus, 
you swore there was not a hetaera in all Ephesus to 
your taste, and now Diana has sent us two. Come 
to me, my little dear,” — seizing Menodora and 
wrenching her from her mother’s grasp. 

“Wretch!” cried Nymphas, springing at his 
throat, ‘ ‘ Let the daughter of a citizen go ! Let her 
go, I say!” 

The last word was emphasized with a blow from 
behind that sent the young noble rolling in the mud. 
At the same instant another attacked Apphia and 
threw her violently upon the ground. 

No man can tell how strong he is until a crisis is 
upon him. Dazed and bleeding, Nymphas was 
upon his feet at once. The thought of his duty as 
protector, the thought of Menodora in danger, 
rushed into his mind; and it seemed as if the 
strength of ten surged through his muscles. 

He drew his dagger carefully, for he realized it 
would not do to miss, and crouched to spring. 

“Take care where you strike,” came the mut- 
tering voice. Nymphas perceived that the villain 
was backing into the darkness, protecting himself 
from the keen blade behind the fainting form of the 
maiden. With a curse he lowered the weapon and 
seized him by the arm. Apphia also sprang for- 


VENUS IN THE GROVES OF DIANA 105 


ward with a vscream, and the four wallowed in an 
agony of battle upon the slippery ground. Doubt- 
less high honor and desperate love would have won 
in such a contest had the odds been even. But 
just as Nymphas, raised upon one knee, was about 
to throttle his antagonist, there fell upon him a rain 
of heavy blows. With a groan his hand relaxed its 
grasp and he sank forward unconscious. Amid her 
shrieks for help Apphia was tossed to one side, and 
brutal arms lifted Menodora in their foul embrace. 

“Great is the mystery of godliness. God was 
manifest in the flesh, justifled in the spirit, seen of 
angels, preached among the nations, believed on in 
the world, received up into glory. ’ ’ 

The words of this ancient hymn floated through 
the darkness from a company of stalwart forms. 
The light of torches revealed the faces of Luke, 
Aristarchus, Timothy, Epaphras, and others with 
whom we have become familiar in the schoolroom 
of Tyrannus. 

“Hark! I hear a woman cry,” said Luke, pausing. 

“It is only the shout of some revelers,” answered 
Timothy; “let us proceed.” 

“Help! Murder! Philemon! Archippus! Diana 
save ! ’ ’ rose the cry from a neighboring street. 

“Some woman is attacked. To the rescue!” cried 
Epaphras, as he plunged into the darkness. 

The lights in a chamber of the house of Onesi- 
phorus were burning brightly. Philemon and 
Archippus, looking very grave, were standing by 


io6 


ONESIMUS 


the couch of Menodora. She was prostrated but 
unharmed. 

Apphia was sitting in a chair close at hand, pale 
and trembling with agitation. 

Menodora opened her eyes and looked anxiously 
at her father. “Yes, my dear,” replied he, mistak- 
ing the nature of her mute appeal, “I shall wait 
upon the proconsul at once and demand of him the 
capture of your assailants. They shall be crucified 
every one. “ 

“Oh, not that,” murmured the girl. “How is 
Nymphas?” 

“He is in the court below, and the physicians say 
he will be all right in a few days. Drink this warm 
wine and go to sleep like your father’s own little 
daughter. 

“Only to think,” sighed she, closing her eyes, 
“he was nearly killed in defending me.” 

Early next morning, the crowds which assembled 
in the shops and about the markets, saw notices 
inscribed with the imperial eagle, posted in con- 
spicuous places. 

“What is this, my Manto?” — pointing to the proc- 
lamation — said an old fishwife to a barefoot, short- 
clad fisherman, as he deposited a basket filled with 
the slippery fruit of his net upon her stand. 

“It has the Roman eagle upon it,” answered he, 
gazing with doubtful mien at the unknown char- 
acters. 

“Do you take me for Apollo that you ask me such 
questions? I can catch more fish than any other 
man in Samos, but I am not learned. ’ ’ 


VENUS IN THE GROVES OF DIANA 107 

“Such crimes are an outrage on our city,” hotly 
remarked an aged sophist, as he read the notice. 
“I hope the knaves will come to the cross.” 

“Be not so severe,” answered his younger com- 
panion. “You have passed through youth and 
know that young blood is warm. Perhaps if her 
mother had not been present, the girl would not 
have objected to the embraces of her ardent lovers.” 

At that moment two heavy, thickly built men 
slouched up, and eyed the words carefully. 

“By all the gods, my Demonax!” remarked one 
of them in a low tone, “if that drunken slave should 
tell tales we would be in a bad way. ’ ’ 

The other made no reply for he was spelling out 
the words. 

“TO ALL THE INHABITANTS OF EPHESUS: 

”BE IT KNOWN TO YOU THAT THE 
DAUGHTER AND WIFE OF THE GOOD 
SUBJECT OF OUR C^SAR, PHILEMON, THE 
WOOL MERCHANT OF COLOSSE, WERE 
ATTACKED BY ROBBERS NEAR THE CO- 
RESSIAN GATE ON THE SECOND NIGHT 
OF DIANA'S FESTIVAL. 

“D DENARII ARE OFFERED FOR THE 
CAPTURE OF THE RUFFIANS. 

“BY ORDER OF THE PROCONSUL.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


ONE VIEW-POINT 

Alexander, the coppersmith, was in a bad humor. 
His yellow skin seemed a shade darker than usual ; 
and his small, bead-like eyes gleamed wickedly 
from under his shaggy brows. Before him lay a 
tablet on which he had been figuring, while over 
the counter of his shop leaned a tall, spare man in 
the garb of a merchant. 

“No, I cannot afford it,” said Alexander. “What 
with tithes and offerings for Judea, and the require- 
ments of my establishment here, you need expect 
no favors.” 

“It is not a favor,” replied the other sharply, 
“but merely business. I tell you my line of busi- 
ness is very bad, in fact never worse. I cannot pay 
the Roman rate on copper ; and I am not going to 
attempt it. More than fifty pounds of copper, pur- 
chased from you, remain in bars in my shop; and 
the gods only know how much more in unsold 
shrines, which I fear will never sell. ‘ ’ 

“By the God of Abraham! say not, purchased 
from me, when you owe me ten thousand drachmae 
these two months, beside interest.” 

“Well, old usurer, you know my bill is good on 
the agora, and that I will pay you the Ephesian 
rate if you will give me time — say three months. * * 

io8 


ONE VIEW-POINT 


109 


“The contract is for Roman, and the Roman rate 
I will have, so help me Abraham, Isaac and Jacob! 
I shall sue you to get it, and sell your whole estab- 
lishment, shrines, slaves and all. ’ * 

“Not so fast, old Jew; it may be that I am able to 
harm you or do you a favor. The temple of Diana 
is to have new rain pipes of copper throughout. 
The work is great and there is an opportunity for 
some one to make money. I have influence with 
the priests, yea, with the chief priest himself. A 
word from me may give you the job or divert it to 
one of your competitors. ’ ’ 

“My good Demetrius," exclaimed Alexander, his 
whole face lighted with a smile that seemed rather 
like the play of the ignis-fatuus over a grave, “we 
have been friends for many years, and of course 
when the Roman rate on copper was mentioned, it 
was but a joke — but a joke. The Ephesian rate is 
my regular price, at least for friends, and what is a 
little matter of interest between friends such as we. 
Take your own time to pay the Ephesian rate and 
without interest; take your own time, my good 
Demetrius. ’ ’ 

Demetrius smiled a sardonic smile and said, “I 
shall see the chief priest to-day and shall obtain for 
you the contract. Of course I shall expect a trifling 
commission for the favor, perhaps ten drachmae on 
a hundred." 

Alexander’s smile vanished and he crumpled the 
papyrus in his hand. “Make it five and it is a 
bargain," he said. 

“No, ten I must have or my influence goes to 


IXO 


ONESIMUS 


Cherilus on the Magnesian Way. I know he would 
pay me more than that for my favor. ’ ’ 

“You are hard on me,” whined the coppersmith, 
“but since I must do so, call it ten on a hundred.” 

“Very good, old Jew, and three months without 
interest and the Ephesian rate for my debt.” 

“You are at the advantage,” mournfully said 
Alexander. “It is hard for me to labor and be 
oppressed with poverty.” 

“Not much oppressed, I should think,” said 
Demetrius, preparing to leave. “Did I not hear 
that last week you deposited one hundred thousand 
drachmae in the temple vaults for safe keeping? 
Good-day. ’ ’ 

“One word more,” cried Alexander, seizing him 
by the cloak. “You know the bigotry of some in 
our synagogue — so unreasonable to confound 
religion with business. If they should hear that 
I furnished the copper for Diana’s temple they 
would call me an apostate from the faith of 
Israel.” 

“You wish to have your name concealed in the 
contract? Very well, I shall manage to have it 
drawn up under an assumed name. In that case I 
shall require a little extra fee, perhaps one hundred 
drachmae — but who is that at the entrance?” 

“By the beard of Aaron! There are Rabbi Ben 
Joseph and Rabbi Isaac coming in at the door! 
This way, my good Demetrius, this way quick! 
They would be greatly offended to find me talking 
with an idol maker; this way!” 

Demetrius being hastily thrust through a side 


ONE VIEW-POINT 


III 


door and down a stair toward the wine-court, heard, 
as he descended, the voice of Alexander. 

“The peace of Jehovah — blessed be his name — be 
upon you and yours;” and the reply of Rabbi 
Isaac, “What peace can there be in Israel when 
the apostates of the Crucified multiply daily, even 

within ” But the door closed and he could 

hear no more. 

Demetrius found himself in the wine-court, with 
which the reader is familiar. The dark-eyed Rachel 
was dealing out wine to two attendants, who were 
kept busy supplying a group of thirsty men gath- 
ered in the center of the court. He recognized 
their class at once and the faces of several. 

White-clad priests, dry and dusty, from the pro- 
cession of the day; and black -robed jugglers, whose 
tricks of skill had deceived the populace that morn- 
ing, were resting, until the cool of evening should 
tempt the people on the streets, when their business 
would begin again. 

“By the mother of all the gods!” said a young 
priest, drawing his dirty robe around him, “unless 
these Christians are suppressed, and especially that 
Paul, Diana will be dethroned and our living will 
be gone. Did you see the crowds leaving our pro- 
cession to hear one of them preaching on a side 
street?” 

“Yes,” replied another, “and the disaffection 
does not confine itself to the vulgar herd. They 
never gave more than a copper for the worship of 
the goddess; but even among the aristocracy many 
are abandoning her worship. I understand that the 


II2 


ONESIMUS 


Asiarch Glaukos, openly condemns onr system, and 
consorts daily in the school of that Tyrannus with 
the Nazarenes.” 

“Have you heard the latest?’' said a juggler, 
pocketing the dice which he had been throwing. 
“Paul, the ringleader of the sect, has been perform- 
ing many miracles, which have completely alienated 
multitudes from our arts.” 

“Sayest thou so, O son of Bacis?” replied the 
priest; “then it ought not to be so hard to contend 
with him. As long as he worked in another sphere, 
we knew not how to treat him. When he begins 
to use our means we may either expose him, or, by 
bribes, gain a new member to our fraternity, if we 
think his skill worthy. ’ ’ 

“In that you are mistaken. The gods know that 
you and I laugh together at the credulity of the 
people, but he is different. Only yesterday he 
named the name of Jesus over a woman, bedridden 
these many years, and she arose, healed. Last 
week he cured a fever. In fact, so many are his 
mighty works that the people beseech him to let 
them carry napkins from his person and as many as 
do so are perfectly healed.” 

“He must be a mighty magician,’’ replied the 
other, “and as such we must learn his secret. 
Every man has his price. Are the priests of Diana 
so poor that they cannot buy him?” 

“Yes, verily they are too poor, for not a copper 
will he take, but he works at his trade daily to sup- 
port himself. His arts are nought ; he merely prays 
to that Jesus and his works are wrought in darkness 


ONE VIEW-POINT 


113 

or light, at home or abroad. No tricks are his, but 
genuine miracles, I am convinced of that. ’ ’ 

“Then this must be our means,” answered his 
companion, drawing a long, thin knife from beneath 
his tunic. 

“Take care what you do,” said a juggler who had 
not spoken before, “for the people are carried away 
by his teaching. ’ ’ 

“Servants of Apollo,” broke in another, “hearken 
unto, me. Apollonius, as you know, has brought 
many wonderful tricks from the East, and thence, I 
am informed, comes Paul. He was schooled in the 
mysteries of Jehovah at Jerusalem. Perhaps the 
name of Jesus is the key to that power which we 
vainly seek, and in place of which we deceive the 
people with tricks. My judgment is that we care- 
fully spy out his formulas, and that by experiments 
we endeavor to learn his secrets. Are his methods 
so profound that none of Diana’s servants can dis- 
cover them?” 

“Well said,” exclaimed a white-haired juggler. 
Turning to one of the company, whose Jewish 
features proclaimed his nationality, he spoke, 
“Thou, O son of Sceva, art from the East, and of 
the same race. I, the master of Diana’s eunuchs, 
appoint you and your brethren to undertake this 
task and to discover his secrets. ’ ’ 

The one addressed replied: “We are not unquali- 
fied for the work, O Master; for my brethren and 
I have studied his method already. Paul raises his 
eyes to heaven, stretches out his hands over the sick, 
and says, ‘In the name of Jesus Christ be healed.’ ” 


ONESIMUS 


114 

Just then the door opened and the two Rabbis 
appeared, holding up their skirts as if fearing pollu- 
tion. Alexander closely followed. He was saying, 
“Ye know, O fathers, that it is not my will that 
my wine-court should become a lounging place for 
the heathen, defiled by the uncircumcised, as was 
our holy temple by swine in the days of Antiochus 
the Mad. But at the time of festival these must be 
admitted or they would break in.” 

“Hold your peace, while I state our errand,” 
replied Father Isaac — then turning to the aston- 
ished jugglers and priests of Diana — “It is not 
according to our law for us to hold converse with 
you, O heathen, but this day is a day of rebuke and 
of blasphemy in Israel. As the Kenites were eyes to 
Moses in the wilderness, so may ye be to us. There 
is an apostate from our faith, that Paul, whom ye 
know, who turns aside many in Israel, and injures 
the business of such as you, in this city and 
throughout the world. Our duty is to crush him, 
as the worm is crushed under Caesar’s chariot wheel. 
But first we must know the man and his haunts ; 
nay, we would destroy him by law rather than by 
violence. Therefore we desire a trusty spy to 
watch him and his followers. The worthy Alexan- 
der has agreed to bear the expense. Who of you 
will undertake the task?” 

“How much will Alexander pay?” spoke up one 
and another. 

“Five drachmae by the day,” said Alexander. 

“Too little, old Jew,” said a priest of Diana,” this 
is a skilled labor that ye ask. ’ ’ 


ONE VIEW-POINT 


”5 


“Five is all. I can afford,” protested Alexander, 
“the times are very bad.” 

The contention concerning the price seemed 
likely to prevent the consummation of the bargain, 
when Rachel, who had drawn near, said, “Pardon a 
daughter of Israel if she speaks in the presence of 
men. May I address the company. Father Isaac?” 

“Days should speak and multitude of years should 
teach wisdom,” replied he; “but as it was permitted 
to Elihu to answer Job, so it is permitted to thee, 
my daughter.” 

“Promise me one hundred drachmae if I furnish 
you a good spy, and I ask for no more. ’ ’ 

Alexander was about to protest, when Demetrius 
said, “It shall be yours, girl, if you lead us to the 
fox’s lair.” 

“Well, then, Onesimus, slave of lord Archippus, 
who studies in the school of Tyrannus, has every 
opportunity to spy Paul and the Christians. He 
often comes here. He would make a good and 
trusty spy, and I am sure we may use him.” 

“How will we influence him?” asked Rabbi Isaac. 

For answer Rachel blushed and shook her raven 
curls. 

“Are you so dry, old Jew?” said Demetrius, “that 
you do not understand? By Venus, I am old 
myself, but a young smile for an old beard still 
thrills me. The maiden will make love to the soft- 
hearted fool and he will do her bidding. ’ ’ 

“Now, by all the prophets!’' interrupted Alexan- 
der, “no daughter of mine shall consort with 
uncircumcised slaves. ’ ’ 


ONESIMUS 


1 16 

“Maybe she will not in the future,” replied 
Demetrius with a smile, “but she has already. 
Every lounger in your court knows that. Ever 
since you placed her in charge of your wine, Onesi- 
mus has come here for something beside drink, and 
he has gone away drunk with something beside 
wine.” 

“By our Father Abraham!” cried Alexander in a 
rage, “is that so, Rachel?” 

“Peace, Alexander,” interrupted Isaac, “the 
thing is of the Lord, that he may deliver our enemy 
into our hands. Let the daughter of Israel lead on 
the slave, and by profession of love make him our 
spy. So shall the blessing of Jael, the wife of 
Heber, come upon her. ’ ’ 

“If ye think it a cheap and safe way,” answered 
Alexander, mollified, “it shall be so. Rachel, 
accept his love only so far that thou bring no dis- 
honor upon thy father. ’ ’ 

“Trust me, father,” replied the girl. “Onesimus 
daily protests his love to me, and as I pipe to him 
so will he dance. I shall have no trouble in finding 
out all he knows, and in urging him to discover 
more. Then, ’ ’ added she, her naturally pretty face 
suddenly resembling the hard features of her father, 
“when we have used him all we need, we may crush 
him and throw him away like a sucked egg. ’ ’ 

“The blessing of Jehovah be upon thee!” cried 
Isaac delightedly. 

“I pledge to Diana and the Rose of Israel in a 
bumper of old Cyprian!” exclaimed the gallant 
Demetrius. 


ONE VIEW-POINT 


117 

As the maker of images passed from the court 
into the street, he was met by the ruffian, Demonax. 
The fellow had drawn his cap over his eyes, and 
was evidently in an anxious frame of mind. 

“By Hercules!” ejaculated he, falling behind 
Demetrius so that he might speak with him and yet 
seem near him by chance, “I dare not stay in 
Ephesus and I must have my money before I go.” 

“No goods delivered, no pay,” muttered the other 
without pausing. 

“We did our best, and it is not our fault if we 
could not keep the girl. Would you have us fight a 
dozen men? We have run the risk, and, by Pluto, 
I will have my pay. ’ ’ 

“There is no great danger of .capture. No one 
knew you in the dark. ’ ’ 

“I am not so sure of that. Daitus was fool 
enough to drag that drunken slave, Onesimus, along 
with us. I don’t know how much he understood, 
but I am sorry he was at hand.” 

Demetrius turned suddenly upon him with an 
oath — “Here, take your pay and be gone. How 
often must I tell you fellows never to trust my 
secrets to any one?” 

The man grinned as he fumbled his fingers upon 
the fresh gold in his belt. “I may be back after 
the trouble blows over, if the noble Demetrius 
should need any further services. ’ ' 

Demetrius’s brow relaxed as he replied. “I 
never set eyes on a girl but that I enjoy her some- 
time. Let the noble Colossian take good care of his 
daughter, for even Jupiter crawled into a lady’s 


ii8 


ONESIMUS 


chamber through the keyhole. Farewell, Demonax. 
Hold your mouth shut and report to me when you 
return. It may be to your advantage.” 

Demonax moved away with that peculiar gait 
characteristic of thieves. Demetrius looked after 
him a moment, and then called, “Ho! come back.” 
The other turned and the great criminal and the 
small criminal were again face to face. The former 
spoke in a low tone, “Did Onesimus know that I 
sent you to make that assault?” 

“No, for your name was not mentioned.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“By the gods, I swear it.” 

“That is all. You may go. Farewell.” 


CHAPTER IX 


ANOTHER POINT OF VIEW 

The festival of Diana, which brought to many a 
time of freedom, had only increased the labors of 
the slaves of Glaukos, the Asiarch. Not that their 
master was a hard tyrant, for among their associates 
their lot was reckoned easy ; but the feast, which he 
had determined for the third day of the festival, 
required all their attention. Glaukos had said to 
his steward, “Tell the slaves that if they will pro- 
vide a dainty feast for six, worthy of their master, 
I will give to each of them five drachmae, and a 
week’s holiday by turn, instead of the day they 
lose. ’ ’ Thus stimulated, there had been an unusual 
bustle among them, and cheerful alacrity was 
expressed on every face. 

From early morning some of the young slaves 
had been arranging, the hall. First, they washed 
and rubbed the tiled floor and marble walls until 
they shone. Great silver lamp-stands were then 
placed, and garlands of flowers hung upon them. 
Upon the walls, festoons of May roses were sus- 
pended. Three couches of oak were spread with 
purple cushions, and three small tables were set 
with silver bowls, plates and spoons. Old Philo, 
the cook, basket in hand, had visited the market in 
person, to inspect with the eye of a connoiseur, the 
Sicilian cheese, the fish from the .^Egean, and 

119 


120 


ONESIMUS 


the game and meat, tender and good, from the 
Asian highlands. 

And now while the pleasure-surfeited multitudes 
were reveling homeward through the streets ; while 
within the wine-court of Alexander the Rabbis and 
jugglers had determined on their choice of a spy; 
within his own hall the Asiarch with head begar- 
landed, a purple mantle on his shoulders, awaited 
his guests. The door was opened and Glaukos 
greeted with a kiss each guest in turn — Tyrannus, 
Philemon, Archippus and Epaphras. 

“How fare the lady Apphia and her lovely daugh- 
ter, after their assault of yesterday?” asked the 
host. 

“They still suffer from the shock, but are on the 
road to health, by the favor of Apollo, ’ ’ answered 
Philemon. 

“And the noble Nymphas who so gallantly 
defended his charge, and who should have been 
with us to-night, how fares he?” 

“He has many bruises on his body and is too sore 
to turn on his couch, and upon his head is a great 
gash, but he is amending, ’ ’ replied Archippus. 

“The deed was a disgrace to our city and should 
be severely punished. Know ye who the villains 
are?” 

“The streets were deserted because of the rain, 
and the night was very dark. The few who were 
abroad were, for the most part, drunk and disor- 
derly slaves and peasants. Not one of them was 
recognized,” said Philemon. “I waited upon the 
proconsul in person, this morning, and complained 


ANOTHER POINT OF VIEW 


I2I 


of the deed. He expressed his sympathy, and even 
sent his own physician to attend upon the wounded. 
Nay, he strongly insisted that such crimes must be 
punished, and declared himself willing to crucify 
half a dozen slaves, who were abroad at the time, 
and who may have been among the guilty. I 
answered that since no one was permanently injured 
I would not require such an oif ering. ’ ’ 

“It was nobly spoken,” replied the host, “the 
ends of justice are not advanced by the death of 
the innocent. But who were the rescuers?” 

“They were a company of Christians whom our 
friend Tyrannus knows well. Their names are 
Luke, Gaius, Timothy and several others, and 
among them must be mentioned our young friend 
Epaphras, son of my honored townsman, Theron. ’ ’ 
“I am glad to know that a band of Christians 
were the deliverers,” said Glaukos, “and I rejoice 
to have among my guests such a young man as Epa- 
phras, a youth who brings honor to Colosse. ” 

“I had supposed,” continued Philemon, “from 
reports I had heard at home, that the Christians 
were of all men the most degraded. My observa- 
tion in Ephesus contradicts my opinion, for to them 
I owe the life of my wife and daughter. Strange to 
say, when I pressed upon them a reward, not one 
of them would take a copper ; even a poor trades- 
man of the group, upon whom I urged a stater, 
refused it like a philosopher. ‘No,’ said he, ‘I 
desire nothing. I only did my duty.’ ” 

“First accounts of the Christians I also have 
found erroneous,” replied Glaukos. “The fact that 


122 


ONESIMUS 


such a youth as Epaphras has enrolled himself 
among them, proves conclusively that they practice 
nothing base. ’ ' 

While this conversation was in progress, slaves 
had removed the shoes of the guests, and had 
poured wine and water, fragrant with balsam over 
their feet And now they reclined upon the purple 
cushions, Philemon in the place of honor next the 
host. On the second couch were Archippus and 
Tyrannus, while Epaphras rested upon the third 
couch with a vacant place beside him. 

“Although you have no couch-fellow,” observed 
Glaukos to him, “you are not dishonored; for by 
your side was the place reserved for the noble Nym- 
phas, whose wounds deprive us of his company.” 

The banquet now began, and soon upon the table 
were placed steaming dishes of pheasants and chick- 
ens, pork and mutton. Beside them were plates of 
cabbage, melons, lettuce and beans. The guests 
scooped up the viands with spoons and flexible pieces 
of wheaten bread. When all had eaten heartily, 
Glaukos motioned to the steward, who removed the 
tables, while an attendant poured water over the 
guests’ hands and wiped them with a towel. Gar- 
lands were then placed upon the head of each, 
during which time Glaukos, with evident agitation, 
was mixing in the great bowl, water, wine and 
spice. 

At last he spoke with an effort, “My lords, it is 
customary at this stage of the banquet to introduce 
flute players, and all kinds of theatricals, for the 
amusement of the guests; but never again shall 


ANOTHER POINT OF VIEW 


123 


such be permitted in my house. It is customary, as 
you in past time have seen me do, to pour out a 
libation to the gods, and to invoke the blessing of 
Jupiter Savior. I shall pour out a libation, not to 
the gods of my fathers, but to the Great God of all, 
who loved me and gave his own Son for me. I 
shall invoke Jesus Savior, to whom I have conse- 
crated myself and mine. ” 

Oh, reader, to whom the confession of Christ 
among Christian friends is an ordeal, wonder not 
that the great beads of perspiration stood upon the 
brow of Glaukos, when he renounced the gods of his 
fathers and all the associations of a long life. 

There was silence for a moment, and then Epa- 
phras seized a goblet and raising it high, cried, “I, 
too, am not ashamed to acknowledge myself a Chris- 
tian, and to drink to Jesus Savior.” 

In a slow voice, as if searching for words, Phi- 
lemon said: 

‘‘My lord Glaukos, it has been known to me for 
some time that Epaphras has formally put himself 
under Christian instruction, a fact which I attributed 
to his youthful eagerness in the pursuit of philoso- 
phy. Nor, indeed, was I ignorant that Tyrannus 
and many of his students were on good terms with 
the Christians. But that you, a man past middle 
life, bound to the ancient systems by every tie of 
family, association and interest, should forsake 
them for this new thing, is very surprising. Be- 
friend the Christians if you wish, and indeed as I 
desire — they have done me a great service — but 
consider well before you take your stand with them. 


124 


ONESIMUS 


for your words to-night will be a sacred secret 
with us. ’ ’ 

“Have I not considered,” answered Glaukos 
almost angrily, “revolving the matter in my mind 
by day and night? I, too, had dipped into philoso- 
phy, as all men of education do, and it had little 
comfort for me. My position as Asiarch led me 
behind the scenes, and I know what the worship of 
Diana is, and, indeed, of all the gods. It is to the 
priests a means of dishonest gain ; to the multitudes 
a degrading superstition; to the educated, at its 
worst, a means of deceiving and controlling the 
masses; and at its best, the symbol of an abstrac- 
tion. I was proud of our gorgeous temple, and 
occasionally laid a garland on Diana’s altar, and 
swore by her over my wine. After my child died, 
as you know, lord Tyrannus, my mind was turned 
toward the unseen. Hither and thither I looked 
without avail, until I heard the teaching of Paul in 
the schoolroom. He immediately impressed me as 
a true man as the priests did not; and he spoke 
with authority, as the philosophers did not. In 
short I followed his teachings and found them the 
very wisdom and power of God unto salvation. 
After a long struggle, at last in Christ I have 
peace. ’ ’ 

“And do the leaders of this sect know of your 
resolve?” asked Philemon, visibly moved. 

“Paul has visited me often during the last two 
months, and I have not scrupled to attend him in 
public. For the last three weeks, Timothy, whom 
he calls his own son in the faith, has instructed me 


ANOTHER POINT OF VIEW 


125 


daily. I have promised to be enrolled among the 
catechumens as a preparation for baptism. ’ ’ 

Epaphras sprang from his couch and wept for joy 
upon the neck of Glaukos. Archippus tasted his 
wine and set it down again, while his face changed 
from red to white and red again. 

“My lord Philemon,” said Tyrannus, “since we 
are in private, I fear not to acknowledge that the 
truth of Christianity takes me here” — tapping his 
forehead — “but it has not enslaved my heart. What 
would a sophist do among the Christians anyway,” 
he added after a pause; “for as Paul says, ‘Not 
many wise men after the flesh are called’ ” — this 
with a sigh. 

Again Philemon spoke : ‘ ‘ My lord Glaukos, your 
conversion will doubtless affect not only your own 
future, but will precipitate a crisis in the city. The 
Christians increase rapidly, and Diana’s votaries are 
bitter and unprincipled.” 

“Results are with God,” replied Glaukos. 

“Oh, Philemon, put yourself also under this 
teaching, as I have done. ’ ’ 

“If I were to remain in Ephesus I should certainly 
investigate the system, but I must away to Colosse 
in a few days, and shall not have the opportunity.” 

“I entreat you then, let me send you a manual 
of Christian teaching, prepared by the apostle,” 
urged Glaukos. 

‘ ‘ I shall receive it gladly and read it carefully, 
answered Philemon. 

And thus the banquet closed. At the door they 
parted — Glaukos, to return to his own chamber. 


126 


ONESIMUS 


where the surging emotions of his soul were calmed 
by prayer; Tyrannus, to seek his own apartment, 
where the morning sun looked in upon the wise 
man, still tossing on his sleepless couch in that 
agony, which those only know whose minds are 
convinced, but whose hearts will not yield; Epa- 
phras, to hasten in joy to tell the news at the house 
of a poor dock-laborer, where several were gathered 
together praying ; Philemon and Archippus, to walk 
with rapid step to the house of Onesiphorus, the 
elder man deeply impressed, but calculating conse- 
quences, the younger man beckoned on, as it were, 
by two angels; the one in form of a heathen god- 
dess, saying, “This way to honor, pleasure, fame 
and fortune;” the other, in the form of a Christian 
grace, saying, “This way to duty, satisfaction, 
eternal life. ’ ’ 

When Archippus had left his father at his door he 
sought his own chamber. 

Onesimus was awaiting him at its entrance. 
Three days freedom had not improved his appear- 
ance. His new mantle was stained with filth and 
wine, and rent in several places. His eyes were 
blood-shot, and his hand trembled. 

“Is that you, Onesimus?” cried Archippus, when 
he saw him, “here help me off with this mantle. 
By Bacchus ! slave, you are drunk. ’ ' 

“Not drunk, but happy,” thickly articulated 
Onesimus. “By the great Diana! Master and I 
are happy; for the Rose of Israel, most beautiful 
woman in Ephesus, Rachel, loves me and rejoices 
in my arms. ’ ’ 


ANOTHER POINT OF VIEW 


127 


“Oh, you fool ! Who told you that? Do you 
suppose that old Jew or his daughter care anything 
for a slave like you?” 

“Fact,” persisted Onesimus, in a jovial frame of 
mind. “She says so herself.” 

“Trust her not, she is fooling thee. If she is 
anything like her father, she cares for nothing but 
money. How much money have you left of that 
purse father gave you? By Hercules! you fool, not 
an oblos. Go to bed and sleep off your wine. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER X 


AWAKENED LOVE 

Love is the greatest force in the world. In its 
lowest form it is like a savage beast that creeps in 
through the door of the senses and tears the soul 
in its might. In its highest form it is like a strong 
angel which bears the soul upward, unconscious of 
self, to the obedience of God and the service of man. 
True it is even of lower love, that “love takes up 
the harp of life and smites on all the chords with 
might.” True it is always, when the divine love 
fills the soul, that “love smites the chord of self, 
which trembling, passes in music out of sight. ’ ’ 
Between the animal affection which is lust, and the 
love of God which is the greatest of graces, is the 
great realm of human love, the temple of earth’s 
highest joys, pleasures and duties. Its portal may 
be the senses, but its holy place is in the soul ; and 
thrice happy is he who has the fire of a manly love 
burning upon the altar before the shrine of a true 
womanhood. 

Nymphas had never had that fire kindled within 
his heart before. In the spring of youth, his fancy 
had been led captive once and again, by the bright 
eyes and waving curls of some one of that numerous 
class of women, who constituted the only female 
society, beyond the circle of his immediate family, 
open to the unmarried man of that day. He had 
128 


AWAKENED LOVE 


129 


enjoyed their laugh for a moment, and then turned 
away in disgust. As he approached maturity, many 
a father, anxious for his daughter’s future, had flat- 
tered him, and expatiated on the advantages to 
accrue to each, from a matrimonial alliance. To all 
such he had answered, that when his studies were 
completed he would consider the matter. Now that 
he was twenty-five years old, he realized that his 
duty to the state and to his father’s name required 
a speedy marriage. The thought made him sigh, 
for his manliness revolted from the idea of a mar- 
riage for convenience and not for love. 

All this was changed with him after the festival 
of Diana which has been described. Apphia and 
Menodora visited him during the illness resulting 
from the injuries received in their defense. To 
him it seemed that the ache in his bones and the 
cut on his head were a small price to pay for the 
vision which glorified his chamber for a little while. 
It was a small price to pay for the music of those 
words, “Oh, my lord Nymphas, I am so sorry that 
you have suffered so much on our account. You 
are a brave man, and I daily pray the gods to 
reward your heroism. ’ ’ 

So as the fair weather of spring glided into the 
scorching heat of summer, it was not the tempera- 
ture which made Nymphas inattentive during the 
lectures of Tyrannus, or listless in the assembly of 
the Christians at which the friends were now regu- 
lar attendants. Manes, whose loving heart appreci- 
ated his master by instinct, saw it all, knew it all. 
His earnest prayers to a new-found Savior for his 


ONESIMUS 


130 

master’s conversion were mingled with visions of 
Menodora as a new mistress. 

One afternoon in mid-summer there had been a 
very solemn meeting, and it seemed as if the Spirit 
of God was about to take visible form and hover in 
the midst. Glaukos was there arrayed in a white 
robe for baptism. Beside him sat Epaphras, his 
face flushed, for he, too, was about to be sealed 
with the same rite. Manes and Tychicus also were 
there, robed in white, looking more like the Lord’s 
freedmen than like slaves. There were others 
about to enter into the covenant — Jews from the 
synagogue, whom Rabbi Isaac had cast out with 
curses and spitting ; priests of Diana who were to 
swear allegiance to a new divinity at cost of friends, 
of home and livelihood; outcast sinners, thieves, 
murderers, adulterers, effeminate, and abusers of 
themselves with mankind ; for many that believed 
came and confessed and showed their deeds. 

And now the benediction for dismissal had been 
said, and those who had not yet confessed faith in 
Christ were sent away with a prayer for their con- 
version. None might be present at the Baptism 
and Supper of the Lord but the saints. Onesimus 
passed out, his face wearing that careless look 
which denotes absolute unconcern for the spiritual. 
Tyrannus passed out, his face white and his teeth 
set. Nymphas and Archippus passed out, the for- 
mer grave and the latter bathed in tears. 

“I can never stand it any longer,” cried Archip- 
pus, when once they had passed beyond the gate 
and were walking in Diana’s groves. “For these 


AWAKENED LOVE 


131 

six months, or ever since Paul began to teach in 
our schoolroom, my heart has been troubled and it 
grows worse and worse. Glaukos, Epaphras and 
even the slaves, have a joy in their hearts and a 
light in their eyes of which I know nothing. I 
believe the word of Paul because I see its power. 
The gods — that is God, I mean — has sent his Son 
into the world in the person of this Jesus Christ. 
He has lived, died, and risen again for our sakes. 
He is himself the Truth.” 

“If you believe this, my Archippus,” said Nym- 
phas, softly, “why are you not a Christian?” 

‘ ‘ Because ’ ’ — fiercely — “I am too proud. To 
accept Christ means that I must cut with all my 
future and follow in Paul’s footsteps, a path of 
sorrow and of persecution, as you know. ’ ’ 

“I know,” replied Nymphas thoughtfully. 
“He says, ‘God forbid that I should glory save 
in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom 
the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the 
world.’ ” 

“Are you a Christian at heart?” broke in Archip- 
pus suddenly. 

Nymphas shook his head and said sorrowfully, 
“No, lam not, and I know the reason why. Your 
obstacle is pride of heart and mine is love. You 
fear to take the step because of ambition, and I 
tremble on the threshold because I love your sister 
Menodora. ’ ’ 

Archippus was silent for a moment, and then he 
said, “I did not know that you cared for Menodora. 
But why should that hinder you in becoming a dis- 


132 


ONESIMUS 


ciple? I would not object to a Christian brother-in- 
law” — with a faint smile. 

“No, you have not seen my love because you 
have been too much occupied with other things. I 
fear your father would never let her marry a Chris- 
tian.” 

Father has not much faith in the gods, ’ ’ replied 
Archippus, “but mother and Menodora are devoted 
to them. If there were more men like Glaukos 
becoming Christians, and fewer slaves and outcasts, 
I do not believe he would object.” 

“It is as Paul says,” answered Nymphas, “not 
many mighty or noble are called. ’ ' 

The friends walked on in silence for some time 
till they came to the dividing of the ways. One 
road led to Diana’s temple, a symbol of the old 
heathenism, superstition and sin, destined to be 
destroyed, yea, already struck with the doom of 
death, in spite of shining gold and marble. The 
other way led to Smyrna, a busy mart of trade, a 
type of the great world to be conquered and regen- 
erated by Christ. 

“I can go no further,” said Archippus, “I must 
decide now which it shall be, philosophy or Christ ” 

There was a long pause while the final battle 
raged. 

“Which is it, Nymphas?” 

“It is Christ, with or without Menodora. Which 
is it, Archippus?” 

“ It is Christ and his cross, ’ ' murmured the young 
man. 

The two friends sank on their knees. Just above 


AWAKENED LOVE 


133 


them stood a marble statue of Apollo, god of the 
old world wisdom and art. His stony eyes looked 
down upon the friends and saw nothing. So the 
kingdom of the old world looked at the new king- 
dom of Christ, and saw nothing ; but in heaven there 
was joy among the angels for the two friends saved; 
an earnest of the joy over a redeemed world. 

That evening Nymphas, Archippus and Epaphras 
sat upon the roof of the chamber of Nymphas, the 
light of victory in their eyes. 

“We must make plans for our new life,” said 
Archippus. 

“Well,” replied Epaphras, “I do not see that our 
conversion need effect our immediate conduct. The 
Lord would rather have skilled laborers in his vine- 
yard than unskilled. I shall keep on with my 
studies, but I suppose I must let father know of my 
baptism. I fear he will be angry.” 

“Yes, I must send word of this home also,” said 
Archippus, “and I dread to do it.” 

“Glaukos showed courage; and the converted 
priests and soothsayers show the very courage of 
Paul, when they confess Christ,” remarked Nym- 
phas. “Let us dispatch word home immediately by 
one of our slaves. You can tell of your conversion 
to your parents, and I shall state the facts plainly 
to Philemon, and ask him to grant his daughter’s 
hand to one of the despised sect. I am sure Meno- 
dora will become a Christian when she knows what 
it means.” 

“That is what we must do,” answered Epaphras. 
“Which slave shall we send? I do not want to send 


134 


ONESIMUS 


Tychicus, for he, too, is a Christian; and if my 
father is as angry as I fear he will be, he might 
find vent for his rage on the poor fellow. ’ ’ 

“Old Manes is too valuable here with us,” said 
Nymphas; “he does his own work and half of 
Onesimus’. Beside he is too old a man for the 
journey.” 

“Onesimus will 'do on an errand of that kind,” 
said his master. “As he is not a Christian he will 
not excite my father’s wrath, even if he is disposed 
to be angry. Father is not a man to show great 
wrath, however. Poor Onesimus ! I wish he would 
become a Christian. I feel more sorry for him than 
ever before in my life!” 

“It is the merciful spirit of Christ working in 
your heart,” answered Epaphras. “I never used to 
pity a slave, but now it seems to me dreadful that 
one for whom Christ died should be held in bond- 
age. I have made up my mind to free Tychicus. 
He is mine, for father gave him to me. ’ ’ 

“Manes has earned his freedom and he shall have 
it as soon as I return to Laodicea,” said Nymphas. 
“I suppose it will only be a nominal matter, how- 
ever, for he will never leave me. ’ ’ 

“Onesimus is better off as my slave than as his 
own freedman; if he were Christ’s freedman it 
would be different,” said Archippus. 

“I am anxious to have the matter settled about 
Menodora,” mused Nymphas; “let us go to my 
chamber where there are lights, and with prayer 
and thought compose those important letters. ’ ’ 

Next morning, while Manes was clearing the 


AWAKENED LOVE 


135 


table, Onesimus was lacing his traveling boots for 
the journey. 

“I think I shall walk a little way with you,” said 
the old man, “for the morning is fine and my duties 
are light. It is so pleasant to be in the fresh air 
and know that God, my Father, made it all for my 
pleasure. ’ ’ 

Onesimus bent lower over his lacing and muttered 
to himself, “By Hercules, I must throw the old man 
off the track somehow. One hundred and fifty miles 
to Colosse. There and back means eight days at 
least on the road. No one can tell how many days 
I may be detained there. Two weeks, perhaps, 
without a kiss from Rachel, and she made me 
promise never to go away without telling her. I 
must manage to see her before I leave the city. ’ ’ 

“Here, Onesimus, are the letters and a purse of 
money for the journey. Give my greetings to all 
the friends at home. Rest yourself well and return 
as soon as you can. A pleasant journey there and 
back. Farewell. ’ ’ 

Archippus had seldom spoken so pleasantly to 
his slave. 

“Farewell,” said Onesimus, starting from the 
door with Manes, his undesired companion, for 
the first stage of his journey. 

“I wish,” said Manes, as they walked up the 
street, ‘ ‘ I could go home for a little while. I would 
so like to tell all the household of Christ, and I am 
sure many of them would accept him.” 

Onesimus, whose mind was upon Rachel, vexed 
at the presence of Manes, answered shortly. “Close 


136 


ONESIMUS 


your mouth, you old fool. I hope I shall not hear 
the name of Jesus till I return to Ephesus.'* 

Manes was silent for a moment and then said, 
“Oh! if I could only bring you to Christ you do not 
know how happy it would make me. It would 
change all your feelings and make you a freedman. 
It seems as if I would be willing to die to see you 
a Christian. ’ ’ 

Onesimus, somewhat ashamed of his former 
remark, and softened by Manes’ words, replied, “I 
can’t help it, Manes. I know that the Christians 
are good people. I am glad you are one if it does 
you any good ; but I can never be one. ’ ’ 

“But why not?’’ persisted Manes. “Your master 
and his friends are Christians and would gladly see 
you accept the faith with them. It seems to me 
that it would not be very hard for you. Tychicus 
and I were both Christians before our masters, and 
so it was harder for us. ’ ’ 

“Hard or not, I know when I am well off. Were 
you ever in love, Manes?” 

The old man bowed his head sadly as if remem- 
bering a long past and answered, “In love! That 
is a strange word for one more than three-score 
years old. I am in love with Christ. ’ ’ 

“Confound you Christians!” muttered Onesimus 
under his breath, “you are always bringing in 
something about Jesus;” then aloud — “I am in love 
with Rachel, daughter of Alexander the copper- 
smith. None so fair as she in all Ephesus! She is 
rich, too, her father’s only child. She returns my 
love and talks of buying my freedom and marrying 


AWAKENED LOVE 


137 


me. Do you think I would give up such a pros- 
pect for your religion?” 

“I wish you well,” murmured Manes; “but 
Christ’s treasure is more than Alexander’s.” 

During all this conversation Onesimus was revolv- 
ing in his mind the question, how he might free 
himself from Manes’ company, so that he might 
visit Rachel before he left the city. At last he 
struck upon this deception and said, “Manes, Philo, 
Glaukos’ slave, was not at the meeting of Christians 
yesterday; do you know why he was not there?” 

“No,” answered the unsuspecting Manes. “I did 
not miss him. ’ ’ 

“Well, he is very sick, likely to die, and he 
wants to see you as soon as possible. ’ ’ 

“Now, God have mercy upon him! I must go to 
see him. Farewell, Onesimus. ” 

“Farewell, Manes.” 

No sooner was Manes out of sight than with a 
chuckle Onesimus turned, and walking rapidly over 
the road they had just passed, was soon within the 
gate. By narrow, crooked streets, over the summit 
of Coressus he advanced, and at last by a back door 
entered the court of Alexander and presented him- 
self before the blooming Rachel. 

The dark beauty of this daughter of the East was 
something very different from the fresh fairness of 
Menodora. She was rather taller, and had a self- 
assertive air pervading her every action. Her hair 
and eyes were black ; her features were more regu- 
lar than is usual in her race. Her snowy feet were 
bound with sandals of red leather, studded with 


138 


ONESIMUS 


precious stones. Her dress was of red, flowing from 
shoulder to ankle, but girt at the waist with an 
embroidered girdle. A multitude of bracelets were 
the only covering upon the white arms. Around 
her neck was suspended a string of pearls, and a 
diamond pin flashed above the coil of heavy hair. 
To the smitten Onesimus she seemed the incarna- 
tion of beauty. By a wiser man her beauty would 
have been more justly judged, for her form was 
sure to lose grace in a few years, and the face to 
become utterly coarse. Even now there was some- 
thing repulsive about her beauty, like the beauty of 
a snake. 

“My dear Onesimus,” cried she, springing to his 
arms and nestling there, “how long it seems since 
you were last here ! ’ * 

“It was only yesterday, my darling, but I must 
leave you now for a few weeks. ' ’ 

“Leave me for what? Oh, how can I endure it?” 

“Archippus sends me with letters to his father, 
and I must go to Colosse.” 

“Oh, how hard it is to be a slave, driven hither 
and thither by another, ’ ’ sighed she. ‘ ‘ How dread- 
ful that you, a perfect king among men, are in that 
position ! But never mind, it will not be for long. ’ ’ 

“That is what you say again and again; and yet 
your father does not free me, ’ ’ answered the slave. 
“He is rich; why does he not do it to-day and save 
me the long journey to Colosse?” 

“Wait, dear, be patient, prove your love by trust- 
ing me. You said you had letters from Archippus 
to his father; where are they?” 


AWAKENED LOVE 


139 


“Here,” said Onesimus, taking from his satchel 
the pack. “This is one from Nymphas to Philemon ; 
this is from Archippus to Philemon; and here is 
another from Epaphras to his father.” 

“Let me read them,” making a motion as if to 
break the seals. 

“No, no,” protested Onesimus, “the seals must 
not be broken. ’ ’ 

“Not even for me?” replied Rachel, pouting. 

“I cannot, my dear. You know it would not be 
safe. ’ ’ 

“Then tell me what is in them.” 

“How should I know? Nymphas loves Phile- 
mon’s daughter, and the three friends have become 
Christians, and I suspect that is what they are 
about.” 

“Then I must see them,” said Rachel decidedly. 

“You are always interested in the Christians and 
never cease to ask me questions about them. There, 
there,” continued he, as the girl fell to weeping, 
‘ ‘ I did not mean to speak cross, my dear. ’ ' 

“You will not let me see the letters,” moaned 
Rachel, in well-feigned grief. 

“If I could do so without breaking the seals I 
would show them gladly, but I have done them so 
much wrong I dare risk no more.” 

“Why, what have you done?” cried she, drying 
her eyes. 

‘ ‘ Do not tell it to any one, but I was in that band 
which attacked the ladies, Apphia and Menodora, 
on the second eve of Diana’s festival.” 

“I heard of it, my Onesimus, how did it happen?” 


140 


ONESIMUS 


“It was dark, and I had drunk much wine, and 
thought of nothing but frolic. Near the great 
stadium I met certain men whom I had seen before 
in the wine-shop. They gave me more wine until 
I could hardly walk. I remember we met two 
women and a man. I did not know who they were, 
but I heard cries and screams. Then I knew no 
more until I found myself at daylight lying against 
the city wall. That day the story of the assault was 
all over Ephesus, and the proconsul offered a 
reward for our arrest. In the evening I was nearly 
sober and came to see you. At that time you told 
me how you loved me. I am sorry I was with the 
knaves, and I fear the cross. ’ ’ 

“Hush! do not speak of such things, my dearest, ’’ 
replied the girl, leaning on his breast; “you must 
never tell any one of it, for if you do you will be 
killed. Trust me, however, for the secret is safe 
here in my heart. ’ ’ 

“I know I can trust you with anything, my Rose 
of Israel, ’ ’ answered the enraptured slave. 

“Indeed you can, but we must see the contents of 
the letters, for they may be important. My father 
can copy the seal in copper and no one shall know it. ’ ’ 

“I would rather not,” urged Onesimus, irreso- 
lutely. 

“Oh, you timid!” and before he could object, the 
letter of Nymphas was opened, and the girl was 
reading its contents. 

“You naughty creature, ” cried he, springing to 
his feet, “to put me in danger merely to satisfy 
your curiosity. ’ ’ 


AWAKENED LOVE 


141 

“Trust me, dearest, it will be all right; but I 
must take the letter to father, to be resealed. I was 
careful not to mar the impression. Practice playing 
on my lyre until my return. The music will be 
sweet because the instrument belongs to me. ’ ’ In 
a short time she returned with all the letters care- 
fully resealed. “Now I suppose you must go, for 
the journey is long, but remember me all the way. 
I shall think of you hourly, while the tedious days 
go by. But, after all, it will not be very long, and 
it will be the last of your journeys, for father says 
when you come back he will have the money ready, 
and then you shall be free, and we will wed.” 

“Oh, my Rose,” cried the delighted slave, clasp- 
ing her to his arms,” was there ever such a one as 
you? Mercury himself, with winged feet, could not 
travel faster than I shall. Farewell, my love, 
farewell. ’ ’ 

“Farewell, my Onesimus, my freedman,” said 
the girl as the slave descended the steps. 


CHAPTER XI 


AWAKENED HATE 

Love is the greatest thing in the world, and hate 
is its opposite. If love is an angel bearing the soul 
toward heaven, hate is a demon driving it down to 
hell. Love and hate are alike, in that neither con- 
siders any sacrifice too great for the altar of its 
purpose. They are alike as the two poles of the 
magnet are alike, as the extremes of heat and cold 
become similar ; hence where love is, hate is not far 
away. So our Lord Christ found; for when he 
came to love men to salvation, they hated him to 
destruction. In this sense it becomes true, that 
when the Prince of Peace appears to bring peace 
on earth, he brings not peace, but a sword. This 
the church has proved throughout the ages; for 
when the light of God’s love illumines the page of 
history, the scowl of the devil’s hate is seen darken- 
ing the prospect. 

So it was at Ephesus. There was love there — 
the love of awakened hearts, as we have seen. 
They were the elders of Ephesus whose hearts bled 
to say farewell to the apostle, and who fell on Paul’s 
neck and kissed him, sorrowing most of all for the 
word which he said, “Ye shall see my face no more. ’’ 
There was love there, the love of hearts, to whom 
Paul could say — “For this cause I bow my knees 
unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, of whom 
142 


AWAKENED HATE 


143 


the whole family in heaven and earth is named, that 
Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith, that ye 
being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to 
comprehend with all saints, what is the breadth and 
length and height and depth, and to know the love 
of Christ which passeth knowledge, that ye may be 
filled with all the fullness of God.” There was 
hate there — the hate of men who had made them- 
selves such slaves to the letter of the Old Testament 
that they refused the liberty of the New; the hate 
of men who, digging for gold in the dark mine of 
Ephesian superstition, refused to come out into 
God’s sunlight. It is in reference to these that 
Paul says, “After the manner of men I have fought 
with beasts at Ephesus;” and again, “But I must 
tarry at Ephesus until Pentecost, for a great door 
and effectual is opened to me, and there are many 
adversaries.” Perhaps it is in reference to this 
same hate, that at the sunset of his life he said to 
Timothy, “Alexander the coppersmith did me much 
evil, the Lord reward him according to his works; 
of whom be thou ware also, for he has greatly with- 
stood our words.” 

The days had long since passed, when Alexander, 
the coppersmith, had found it necessary to toil at 
the sweaty forge. As his wealth increased the 
furnace had given place to the shop. Thither came 
priests of Diana, image makers, the craftsmen of 
many trades, and even representatives of govern- 
ment, to stipulate for the delivery of the yellow 
composition at so much a pound. Ships from 
Cyprus and Euboea, from Gaul and distant Spain, 


144 


ONESIMUS 


entered the harbor of Ephesus, with cargoes of 
copper consigned to Alexander the coppersmith on 
the Sacred Way of Diana. 

It is a curious fact that a man’s abode comes in 
time to reflect his character. So this shop resem- 
bled its owner in all its appointments. The door 
was narrow and hard to open. When at last it 
yielded to the persistent push of the visitor, it gave 
certain groans and squeaks, as if protesting against 
all entrance. It went shut with a bang that seemed 
to say, “Get out again if you can.” Strange to say 
the door on the right side which led into the wine- 
court was precisely similar. There was one low, 
barred window at the end, through whose heavy 
pane the light dimly filtered. Callers frequently 
noticed that the rays which struggled through 
became of a sickly yellow color, not unlike the 
master’s complexion. The room was small, low 
and ill ventilated, for the window would not open 
and the doors were always kept closed. Along the 
right wall ran a shelf straight and narrow. It is 
supposed that this was intended for a seat, to be 
used by those who found it impossible to stand 
longer. On the left side was a tall counter, under 
which was a drawer. Behind this counter stood 
the only article which suggested comfort in the 
room, a cushioned arm-chair. Upon the wall was 
placed a locked closet. Near the window stood an 
inclined writing desk. Beneath this was placed a 
ponderous oaken chest, heavily banded with iron, 
and studded with nails. 

The proprietor of this mart of trade was pacing 


AWAKENED HATE 


145 


to and fro in his shop. A white head cloth was 
wound around his head to form a turban. A close- 
fitting woolen garment, gathered at the middle by 
a girdle, descended from his neck to his sandal-shod 
feet. Thrown over his shoulder was a square man- 
tle with the Jewish fringes upon the border. His 
face was thin and drawn. Indeed, it almost seemed 
that the yellow skin was dried upon the skull, but 
the gleam of his black eyes, revealed the force of 
the fierce fires burning within. “Ten drachmae,” 
he mused. “Ten drachmae to that uncircumcised 
Demetrius for his favor, the Ephesian rate of money, 
and no interest beside ! Money to be spent on that 
cursed brood of heathen magicians, that they may 
help us trap the apostate from the faith. A thou- 
sand drachmae for the temple at Jerusalem — so says 
Rabbi Isaac. I cannot afford to pay it. No, not 
unless I make it up in some other way. ’ ’ 

Alexander sat down at his desk and looked over 
his accounts. “A thousand drachmae for the 
temple, how can I make it up ? Ah ! there is 
Apelles, the merchant, he is easily tricked. I can 
save a third of the sum in a year, on his bill, by 
light weight, deducting a little at a time. Yes,” — 
running his bony finger down the account — “the 
widow Sarah is behind with her rent. I can easily 
make her pay double interest ; or I will have her 
daughter Leah for debt. She is comely and the 
Corinthian pimps are always ready to pay a good 
price for handsome girls ; so I shall save enough to 
pay the Lord’s money. Ah! there is Rabbi Isaac 
at the door now. ’ ’ 


146 


ONESIMUS 


Alexander arose to greet his guests, Rabbi Isaac 
and a tall man whom we recognize at once as 
Demetrius, the silversmith. 

Rabbi Isaac, having cleared his throat, began. 
“Although the prophet reproved Jehoshaphet for 
joining affinity with Ahab, yet of him it is said that 
he turned not aside from following the Lord; so 
stress of circumstances compels us to accept the aid 
of the un circumcised.” 

“Come, come, old Israelite, ” broke in his com- 
panion, “I love you and your crowd of sniffling 
Sabbath-keepers as much as you love us. It pays 
you to help us without so many apologies ; for unless 
you do, the day may come when neither Diana nor 
Jehovah have a temple to their name.” 

“Be seated, worthy sirs,” said Alexander, 
“Rachel! Rachel! Rachel! wine for my guests.” 

When the wine was brought the conversation 
began. “By Pluto, we have failed again,” said 
Demetrius, “and every failure makes the Christians 
stronger.” 

“How is that?” said Alexander. 

“You know that some of the soothsayers have 
been studying the methods of Paul. By appoint- 
ment the seven sons of your countryman, Sceva, 
have made a specialty of it. They at last supposed 
themselves masters of his secrets, and resolved to 
try their power on a man who is harassed by a 
demon, and who lives with his mother on the back 
side of Coressus. Not being certain of a cure, they 
desired to try their skill in secret, and had arranged 
with his mother for an opportunity when the fit was 


AWAKENED HATE 


147 


on him. Women can never hold their tongues, and 
the hag, expecting a great event, invited all her 
neighbors to the spectacle. Some of them were 
Christians, who bragged of the certainty of failure 
before we arrived. ’ ’ 

“Alas!” groaned Alexander; “saith not the wise 
man, ‘One man among a thousand, have I found, 
but a woman among a thousand have I not 
found!’ ” 

“The seven sons of Sceva, myself and others, 
therefore, found the house full at our arrival, and 
the demon, excited by their presence, unusually 
fierce and wild. We were somewhat taken aback, 
but decided not to appear afraid, especially as we 
knew that an august manner would probably subdue 
him into quietness for a time. So the eldest of the 
brothers stepped up to the demoniac, and in a loud 
voice before them all said, ‘I adjure you by Jesus, 
whom Paul preacheth, come out of him ! ’ ” 

“Holy Father Abraham! What happened then?” 
gasped Alexander. 

“The man became utterly furious; fire seemed to 
dart from his eyes, and foam flew from his lips. 
With a yell, ‘Jesus I know, and Paul I know, but 
who are ye?’ he sprang upon him. Feet, nails, 
and teeth were his weapons. He seemed to have 
the strength of ten. Several were knocked down 
and badly bitten and stamped upon. Not one of us 
but received bruises and scratches.” 

“The worst of it is,” broke in Rabbi Isaac, “that 
it gave the Christians more influence. Already the 
story is all over town, and, as a result, last night, 


148 


ONESIMUS 


two new preaching places were opened in that part 
of the city, which were crowded to the doors. ’ ' 

“The crisis is upon us,” answered Demetrius, 
“and the Christians multiply among all classes. 
Your own synagogue is depleted, as you yourselves 
admit; and the crowds that worship Diana are 
alienated to this Jesus. Slaves and laborers were 
led away, at first; but now priests and nobles, yes, 
many of the soothsayers and magicians have fol- 
lowed them. I care not ' for them personally, but 
they reveal our secrets and bring us all into con- 
tempt. ’ ’ 

“Has that slave, called Onesimus, brought you 
any tidings of their doings?” asked Rabbi Isaac of 
Alexander. 

“The villain was sent with letters to Colosse over 
a week ago and of course I have not seen him 
since.” 

“He may be useful to us yet,” said Isaac; “did 
he bring thee no word before his departure?” 

“See these,” answered Alexander, drawing the 
copper seals from his drawer; “that is the seal of 
Archippus, son of Philemon; this the seal of Nym- 
phas of Laodicea; and this of Epaphras, son of 
Theron. Onesimus came to say farewell to Rachel 
and showed her three letters, and she opened them. 
These seals I made so that the matter might not be 
discovered, and I am saving them for future use. 

“What was in the letters?” exclaimed both hear- 
ers at once. 

“Nymphas wrote to Philemon, asking for his 
daughter’s hand, but confessing that he had become 


AWAKENED HATE 


149 


a Christian, and as such must receive her or not 
at all.” 

“Fool!” muttered Demetrius. 

“Archippus wrote to his father, begging him to 
grant the request, and saying that he himself had 
become a Christian. He named several prominent 
men who had been thus deceived, among them 
Glaukos, the Asiarch.” 

* ‘ I knew he was friendly to the sect, ’ ’ said Deme- 
trius; “and I fear him, for he is rich, powerful, and 
worst of all, he knows too much.” 

“Epaphras,” continued Alexander, “wrote to his 
father an elaborate account of the doctrine of the 
crucified, mentioning the names of prominent Chris- 
tians, and at last confessed that he and his slave 
were converted to the faith.” 

“A pack of fools! a pack of fools!” grunted Isaac, 
“to go from heathenism to apostasy from Israel, 
without even a pause within the gates of Zion. 
Thinkest thou that Philemon will give his daughter 
to that Nymphas?” 

“If he does,” replied Demetrius, “so much the 
more fun. Any boy can catch a maiden, but it 
takes a man to seduce a married woman. But to 
return to business: I see our opportunity. Onesi- 
mus has brought us valued information and we may 
use him again. Ye are agreed that Paul must die, 
are ye not?” 

“So saith the law,” replied Isaac. 

Demetrius continued, “I have no hope of his 
destruction by legal means, for his friends are too 
powerful ; but since Onesimus is among them, per- 


ONESIMUS 


150 

haps the slave may be induced to poison him for 
us?” 

“A good thought,” said Isaac, “and a safe one. 
While he is about it, could he not destroy all his 
master’s set?” 

“Unnecessary and too dangerous,” answered 
Demetrius, with a shake of the head. “His mas- 
ter’s friends are philosophers who give little to 
Diana at the best, and no one cares what they think. 
Paul is the great leader, and when he is removed 
his disciples can be scattered. Moreover, if several 
persons were to sicken and die at once, suspicion 
would be aroused. Onesimus under torture might 
reveal the truth, and their wealthy friends would 
make it hard for us. ’ ’ 

“He says wisely,” said Alexander, “for we must 
run no risks. The magicians can mix a potent 
poison, which causes sickness and vomiting some 
little time afterward. Death follows as if from a 
sickness of the stomach. ’ ’ 

“Call Rachel,” said Isaac, “for she is gifted as 
the wise woman of Takoa, and ask her how we can 
best make Onesimus do our bidding. ” 

When Rachel stood before them and heard the 
plot, she said, “It will never work according to the 
old plan. I am sick of being courted by the slave, 
and in an unguarded moment, I promised him free- 
dom and marriage on his return. ' ’ 

“You did!” burst out Alexander excitedly. “You, 
a free daughter of Israel, promised to marry a 
heathen slave, and told him I would purchase his 
freedom ! The fellow is young and lusty, and might 


AWAKENED HATE 


151 

cost a thousand drachmae. Who told you to 
say so?” 

“You told me to use my wisdom and I did,” 
answered the girl definitely; “but I realize that we 
can use him no more without further concessions.” 

“If love will not answer, cannot we employ 
force?” suggested Demetrius, with a wicked light 
in his eye. 

“I know not how we could thus hold him,” an- 
swered Isaac, “but perhaps if Alexander would offer 
him freedom without his daughter’s hand, he might 
serve for that.” 

“I could never pay it” gasped Alexander, 

“I know how we can make him our slave,” ex- 
claimed Rachel. “The fool told me that he was one 
of those who attacked the lady Apphia and her 
daughter during the festival of Diana. The pro- 
consul threatens the culprits with crucifixion, and 
offers a reward for their discovery. We can compel 
him to do any service to save himself from the 
cross. ’ ’ 

“A bright thought,” exclaimed Demetrius, “and 
one that I was myself about to suggest. I had a 
suspicion that he was the assailant. We will act 
upon it.” 

“The means of delivery for Israel and of ven- 
geance upon the apostates ! ’ ’ said Isaac. 

“The bird is caged,” chuckled Alexander; “for 
he is even at the door. ’ ’ 

So it was. Onesimus, having delivered his mes- 
sages to Archippus, had come at once to the shop of 
Alexander and was about to enter. 


152 


ONESIMUS 


“I must not see him,” whispered Rachel, hastily 
retiring. 

Onesimus came boldly in, greeted the strangers, 
and said to Alexander, “My journey is accom- 
plished, and I have returned to claim your promise. 
Where is Rachel?” 

“Who are you,” muttered Alexander, “to ask 
after the daughter of a son of Abraham?” 

“By Hercules! she is mine, for both you and she 
promised me my freedom and her hand, ’ ’ said 
Onesimus, somewhat taken aback. 

“You lie,” retorted Alexander. 

“Hark ye, slave,” said Demetrius, “tell us who 
it was that attacked the lady Apphia and her daugh- 
ter, and for whom the tree of the cross is waiting. ’ ’ 

“I know not,” stammered Onesimus, turning 
pale. 

“If you know not, we do; and that answers the 
purpose. You were one of them. Alexander’s 
palm itches this moment for the reward offered for 
your arrest, but we need you for the present. ’ ’ 

“Who told of it?” screamed Onesimus. “Has 
Rachel deceived me?” 

“Your courtship is over,” answered Demetrius 
with a sneer. 

“But I was to have freedom and marriage,” cried 
Onesimus, turning angrily towards Alexander. 

Again Demetrius interposed, “You still have your 
choice, slave. Serve us as a spy on the Christians, 
doing our bidding, or we deliver you up to the pro- 
consul. Witnesses are cheap now-a-days, and the 
death on the cross is unpleasant. Choose!” 


AWAKENED HATE 


153 


Onesimus had turned from one to another and 
found no sympathy, so he burst into tears. 

“Choose!" thundered Demetrius, towering be- 
tween him and the door, “choose!" 

“I will serve you," gasped the slave. 

“Now give us the letters you brought back from 
Colosse. " 

“I brought no letters from Colosse." 

“You lie, you dog!" shouted Demetrius, seizing 
him by the throat. “This is the way to treat 
slaves." With a brutal leer, he laid Onesimus with 
great force on the floor. 

“There, Isaac, you bind his feet with that cord, 
and you bind his hands, Alexander, while I hold 
him down. ’ ’ 

“Help! murder! let me up," roared Onesi- 
mus. 

“Shut your mouth," said Demetrius, giving it a 
blow, or I will call the city watch, and say we have 
just captured you. We will have the money and 
you the cross. ’ ’ 

Onesimus muttered curses, but was quiet. 

“Now," said his inquisitor, when Onesimus lay 
on the floor, securely bound, and the door had been 
shut and fastened, “give us the letters." 

“I have no letters," gasped the slave. 

“Do not tell us that again or I will teach you to 
tell the truth. ’ ’ 

“By Diana," protested Onesimus, “Philemon and 
Theron were angry when they received the letters 
and sent me back without a message. 

“Perhaps he speaks the truth," said Isaac. 


154 


ONESIMUS 


“We will soon find out,” replied Demetrius, 
striking the flints for lighting a candle. 

“Now, slave, I think your back is as good a place 
to burn as any, you can wear a sore there and no 
one need know it. ’ ’ 

Onesimus struggled, cursed and groaned as the 
fire was applied to his shoulder. In a second he said, 
“take the candle away and I will speak the truth.” 

Demetrius held up the light and he continued; “I 
had letters from Philemon to Archippus and Nym- 
phas, but by the gods, none from Theron to Epa- 
phras. ’ ' 

“Where are they now?” 

“I delivered them to Archippus and then came 
immediately here. ’ ’ 

“Now you speak the truth, slave. What was in 
the letters?” 

“By the mother of the gods 1 know not.” 

“Take care,” said Demetrius, holding the flame 
too near the skin for comfort. 

“I swear it is so,” groaned Onesimus, “but I 
know how the masters received the word. ’ ’ 

“Tell us that,” said Isaac. 

“Philemon was very quiet about it, and went to 
consult his wife. I heard her speaking in a loud 
voice as if angry. I know by the appearance of 
Archippus and Nymphas the answer was not favor- 
able.” 

“How did Epaphras’ father receive the word?” 

“Theron was very angry and swore that he would 
disinherit his son. He drove me from his door, and 
gave me no letter. ’ ’ 


AWAKENED HATE 


155 


“I believe your word,” said Demetrius, “and 
because you have been so trusty we will give you 
more to do. 

“Alexander, you watch him, and I will soon 
return. ’ ’ 

True to his word, Demetrius soon came back with 
a small earthen vial in his hand. 

“Now, Onesimus,” said he, as he placed the 
candle, which he had ostentatiously relighted, close 
to the captive’s face, “we have a service for you to 
perform. Swear by the Styx that you will do it 
faithfully and secretly. ’ ’ 

“What is it?” said Onesimus. 

“Swear first,” said Demetrius. 

“I must know first.” 

“Take that, stubborn one!” exclaimed his tor- 
mentor, thrusting the flame against his shoulder 
again. 

“I swear,” groaned Onesimus, struggling in his 
bonds. 

“You have sworn by the Styx, by which the gods 
dare not swear and break an oath. Now we have 
determined that Paul must die, and you are to poison 
him for us. ’ ’ 

“I cannot, I cannot. I never prepare his food. 
How can I do it?” 

“Your master dines with him and you can find 
the way. * ’ 

“I will not.” 

“How? slave! will not? Feel this again,” as the 
flame blistered and then ate its way into the flesh. 
“Think of the crucifixion just before you. Some- 


156 


ONESIMUS 


times strong slaves like you live three days on the 
cross.” 

“Oh, I will do anything, anything, take away the 
flame.” 

“So you promise?” said Demetrius, after a mo- 
ment of rest. 

“Yes,” muttered Onesimus. 

“Then take this vial and mix its contents with 
Paul’s food. Here is enough to kill ten men, so do 
not fear for the result. Watch for your opportu- 
nity or make it. Only you must do it soon. Do not 
think you can escape me. My craft will overtake 
you beyond the Pillars of Hercules, if you try to 
flee, and the fate that would come to you would be 
the terror of all disobedient slaves ever after. If 
you do your work well, ’ ’ said he more mildly, loosen- 
ing the bands which had cut the wrists of the slave, 
“our friend Alexander will doubtless treat you 
handsomely. A thousand drachmae is a large sum 
for a slave like you, but perhaps he might pay it 
and give you the hand of the fair Rachel for your 
services. But in the meantime take this oblos to 
buy salve for your bum. ’ ’ 


#• 




SITE OF EPHESUS FROM THE EAST 



CHAPTER XII 


WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT! 

The climate of Ephesus is delightful. The bleak 
winds blow cold in winter and hot in summer from 
the uplands of Asia Minor. But they spend their 
force on the rugged sides of the Lydian hills which 
separate the high interior from the lower Ionic 
coasts. Gentle breezes from the -^gean temper the 
heat in summer, and modify the severity of winter 
with the warmth of the Mediterranean. Ephesus 
occupies that most pleasant of all positions in a 
temperate latitude, a southern exposure. One may 
traverse the mighty peninsula from the Euphrates 
on the east, by the shores of the foggy Euxine, 
over the tablelands of Cappadocia and Phrygia, or 
along the southern coast, and find no climate so 
bracing in winter and so pleasantly cool in summer, 
as the western coast-plain within which Ephesus is 
situated. 

And yet the city’s position had its disadvantages. 
The Maeander, the Hermus, the lesser Cayster, all 
bear towards the sea the silt from a vast watershed, 
so vast that the plain itself is the product of the 
deposit of ages, and continually encroaches on the 
sea. The harbors of Miletus and Ephesus have 
gradually become more and more shallow.. At 
present, the places where the keels of stately ships 
once floated free are stagnant fens, and a like fate is 
157 


ONESIMUS 


158 

preparing for the harbor of Smyrna. Roman 
Ephesus stood upon the dome of Goressus and the 
elevation of Prion; mountain spurs, flung west- 
ward as it were from the greater mass of Sipy- 
lus and Tmolus. But the old Greek town at their 
base was founded on the mud of the Caystrian 
meadows, and the temple of Diana stood on marshy 
ground. Therefore malarial fever claimed many a 
victim amid the crowded population of the city, es- 
pecially in the autumn, when the streams were low. 

Archippus leaned from the window of the school- 
room of Tyrannus, a burning sensation in his bones 
and a throbbing pain in his head, unusual to one of 
his vigorous constitution. One year had wrought 
great changes in the young man. He had left his 
father's home at Colosse a boy of twenty, shedding 
tears at the parting from his old associates, and yet 
eager to see and become acquainted with the great 
world. How rapidly we grow ! Years of ordinary 
life may pass over our heads and leave us much the 
same as they found us. Suddenly there comes a 
great failure, or a great success; a great sorrow or 
a great joy; the necessity of an eternal choice, and 
the old life is cast off forever and we stand forth for 
better or for worse, different persons. 

So it had been with Archippus; one year had 
made the boy a man. It was not the study in the 
school of Tyrannus, valuable as that might be; it 
was not the broadening influence of a great city, 
with its freedom from the restraints of home; it 
was rather the force of a new conception. The 
center of his soul’s orbit had been changed from 


WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT 


159 


self to Christ. Well said the Apostle, in considera- 
tion of this truth, “Therefore if any man be in 
Christ he is a new creature, old things are passed 
away, behold all things have become new.” The 
new manhood had been developed amid sorrow. 
The displeasure of his father because of his new 
faith; his mother’s intense grief; and the burning 
tears of Menodora ; had all united to surround his 
Christian joy with clouds. Philemon had written to 
him coldly and without threats, but in language 
every word of which cut the young man to the 
heart. He also sorrowed in sympathy with Nym- 
phas. The latter had quietly read the polite but 
positive refusal of Philemon to give his daughter to 
the care of one whose philosophy was not sufficient 
to keep him from embracing a degraded, eastern 
superstition. The flower of hope had been tom 
from his heart as he turned from the joy of a lower 
love to the obedience of a higher. Epaphras too 
required sympathy, and even financial assistance. 
No reply to his letter had come from Theron, but his 
money allowance had been stopped. The silence 
was ominous and he knew Epaphras greatly dreaded 
the storm which must in time burst upon him. 
Besides all these conditions of change, Archippus 
found himself in the society of men, whose every 
thought was a prayer, and whose every deed was 
an act of heroism. So it was no wonder that the 
boy Archippus should in one short twelvemonth 
become a strong man. 

There were a small number of persons in the 
familiar schoolroom of Tyrannus. Luke, Timothy, 


i6o 


ONESIMUS 


Erastus, Aristarchus, Gains, Aquila and a few 
others were present. Beside these were Nymphas 
and Epaphras, with their slaves Manes and Tychi- 
cus. Evidently it was not an occasion of public 
instruction or worship ; rather it seemed as if each 
of the company were engaged in his own devotions. 
Manes’ honest face was intense with study, as he 
sought to impress by repetition the lesson for the 
next day’s catechetical class upon his mind. 

“Shall the Christian therefore consider that he 
can continue in sin because grace abounds? 

“God forbid, for how shall he who is dead to sin, 
live any longer therein?’’ 

Paul arose from his attitude of prayer, his face 
looking like that of an angel. 

“Brethren,” said he, “the tour of the country 
regions is God’s will and shall be greatly blessed. 
You, my sons, Timothy and Erastus, shall go with 
me as far as Troas; and when we have fully 
preached the gospel in the regions beyond, we will 
return to Ephesus. 

“What hath God wrought!’’ continued he after a 
pause. “During my short sojourn of a little more 
than a year in this city, how has the knowledge of 
the truth increased! What a great change since 
Apollos taught in the synagogue and the twelve dis- 
ciples received the Holy Ghost! Now I doubt not 
that all within the city have at least heard the 
gospel; and ye are my epistles, written on my 
heart, known and read of all men.” 

“Yes,” replied Glaukos, “from the slaves on the 
dock to the priest in the temple, both Jew and Gen- 


WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT i6i 


tile have come to a knowledge of the Christ. I 
bless God for the day that brought you to us — you 
and your disciples. ’ ’ 

“There is no power like that of the gospel,” 
replied Paul, waxing eloquent at the thought, “and 
the day will come when the temple of Diana will be 
forgotten, but the temple of God will be established 
above the tops of the mountains, and all nations 
shall flow into it. Nowhere have I found a greater 
door than at Ephesus, and nowhere else are the 
hosts of Christ and Satan better prepared for battle. 
Seven churches have already been established in 
Asia, and the news from most of them is encourag- 
ing. It is not my work alone, for God hath given 
me many fellow laborers who are a comfort unto 
me. Nor is it our work alone, for it is God who 
worketh in us both to will and to do of his own good 
pleasure. And now brethren, ’ ’ said he, after he had 
led the little company in a fervent prayer, “ *I com- 
mend you to God and to the word of his grace which 
is able to build you up and to give you an inher- 
itance among them who are sanctified.’ You,” said 
he, turning to Luke, “are to feed the flock of God 
which he hath purchased with his own blood. Nym- 
phas, Archippus and Epaphras, see that ye witness 
a good confession in your studies, and improve your 
time by laboring among the poor as ye have oppor- 
tunity. ’ ’ Then followed words of exhortation and 
comfort, and an outline of work to be done by each, 
from Glaukos the Asiarch, to Manes the slave. 

When a Christian kiss and salutation had been 
given and received, Paul said, “Brethren, pray for 


i 62 


ONESIMUS 


us, during this journey, that the word of God may 
have free course and be glorified, even as it is with 
you, and that ye may be delivered from unreason- 
able and wicked men, for all men have not faith.” 
After he had said these things, followed by Timothy 
and Erastus he left the chamber. 

‘T have been thinking,” said Nymphas when the 
door closed, ‘‘how mighty is the influence which 
Christ exerts. He only lived thirty-three years on 
the earth, and he died a felon’s death, yet his power 
has remade one of the most selfish of men into such 
a character as that of Paul. His power, Glaukos, 
has changed your life and mine, in fact the lives of 
all of us here present.” 

Luke answered, ‘‘In his last interview with his 
apostles, Jesus said, ‘All power is given unto me in 
heaven and on earth.’ And we see it is so, for 
already the kingdom of heaven has grown a great 
tree and its shadow fills the whole world. ’ ’ 

‘*I never tire of hearing the account of that won- 
derful life,” remarked Glaukos, ‘‘and since we have 
time, will you, brother Luke, tell us something 
more of the story of Jesus with which you have 
favored us in times past.” 

Luke replied, ‘ ‘ Forasmuch as many have taken in 
hand to set forth in order a declaration of those 
things which are most surely believed among us, 
even as they delivered them unto us, who from the 
beginning were ministers and eye-witness of the 
word, it seems good to me also, having had perfect 
knowledge of all things from the very first, to write 
down an account of Christ, which by the encourage- 


WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT 163 


ment of Paul I hope in time to publish for the edifi- 
cation of the Church.” 

We are glad to have the privilege of hearing 
something of it before it is given to the world,” 
answered Glaukos; “do you, if you please, read 
from it to us.” 

Luke drew from a case some pieces of papyrus, 
and said, “Ye know how I read to you a sketch 
concerning Christ and the children — that touching 
incident which occurred only a few weeks before 
his passion, while our Lord was in Perea. It hap- 
pened that when he had gone forth into the way a 
certain ruler came to him. ” 

“I have heard the story,” interrupted Nymphas, 
“but let us hear it as you have it written.” 

Luke read: 

“And a certain ruler asked him, saying, Good Master, what 
shall I do to inherit eternal life? And Jesus said unto him, 
Why callest thou me good? none is good save one, God. Thou 
knowest the commandments. Do not commit adultery ; Do not 
kill ; Do not steal ; Do not bear false witness ; Honor thy father 
and thy mother. And he said. All these have I kept from my 
youth up. Now when Jesus heard these things he said unto 
him. Yet lackest thou one thing; sell all that thou hast and 
distribute to the poor and thou shalt have treasure in heaven : 
and come and follow me. And when he heard that, he was 
very sorrowful, for he was very rich. ’ ’ 

While the friends were listening in silence, the 
door opened and Onesimus entered, followed by a 
gray-haired man, about whose face played the light 
of kindled passion. They had entered unobserved 
and paused near the door, and while they wait we 
must cast a glance backward. 


164 


ONESIMUS 


Onesimus sat on the step before his master’s 
chamber. The mantle which he was mending had 
fallen from his hands, and great tears of shame and 
mortification stood in his eyes. 

To himself he muttered, “Rachel, Rachel, curse 
the girl ! She led me on by a show of love and a 
promise of liberty and marriage. It was only to 
bring me into this snare. The curse of Pluto come 
upon her, and on her lying old father! All men are 
liars anyway, and life is a frightful dream.” 

Here the slave let the garment slide onto the 
ground and buried his face in his hands. 

“Instead of freedom he has made me twice a 
slave. I am not delivered from my service to 
Archippus, and I must obey the orders and do the 
filthy work of all the tribes of Israel, and of the 
guild of wretches like Demetrius, or be crucified. 
To obey him is to go deeper and deeper into sin, 
and to disobey is the way to the cross. I wish I had 
never been born.” 

“Is this the chamber of Archippus of Colosse?” 
said a voice close beside him. “Wake up, slave!” 
A hard hand shook his shoulder. “By Hercules, 
you are the slave that brought my son’s letter to 
me. A curse upon thee as a bearer of evil tidings. 
Does Archippus dwell here?” 

“Yes, this is his lodging,” answered Onesimus, 
starting up; “but he is not at home.” 

“I care not to see him,” answered' the other, 
“but I sought Epaphras at his lodgings and was 
directed here to find him. Can you tell me where 
he is?” 


WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT 165 


“Probably they will be found at the school of 
Tyrannus, ’ ’ replied the slave. 

“How so? It is long past the fifth hour when the 
school is closed. ’ ’ 

“I know it, but the Christians assemble there at 
this time, and I think you will find him among 
them.” 

“Pluto take the whole herd of fools!” muttered 
Theron; for we have by this time recognized the 
father of Epaphras. “Art thou a Christian slave?” 

“No, sir, I still worship the gods of my master’s 
fathers. ’ ’ 

“By Hercules, you deserve your freedom for that, 
but show me the place and this coin is yours. ’ ’ 

Onesimus arose, and followed by Theron, was 
soon within the schoolroom of Tyrannus, where we 
have already seen them. 

Hardly had Luke finished his reading, when 
Theron strode forward, and seizing Epaphras by 
the arm, said, “Unworthy son of honest parents, 
come with me at once from this company of slaves 
and vagabonds!” 

“Father!” cried Epaphras, almost too surprised 
to speak, “how came you here?” 

“How came I here, you dog? did I not make all 
the long journey from Colosse to Ephesus to deliver 
your from your crack-brained associates?” 

“But, father, they are true and noble men, worthy 
of all honor. I cannot leave them.” 

“I sent you hither,” continued the older man, 
unheeding his son’s remonstrance, “to learn the 
wisdom of the world, that my name might be hon- 


i66 


ONESIMUS 


ored when men should praise the learning of Epa- 
phras, son of Theron. ’ ’ 

“I have not dishonored your name, my father; 
and shall still bring it honor. ’ ’ 

“And did I beget a fool,” answered the other 
bitterly, “a fool, to worship a crucified malefactor, 
dead a generation ago ; a fool to consort with slaves 
and Jews so low that their own synagogue casts 
them out?” 

“Oh, father, you must not speak so,” cried Epa- 
phras, excitedly. 

“I think,” interrupted Glaukos, “that the hon- 
ored Theron misspeaks. I am an Asiarch, and yet 
a Christian, noble Colossian.” 

“You a Christian?” stammered Theron, somewhat 
abashed. “I supposed that none but slaves, male- 
factors and addle-headed boys, like Epaphras, were 
Christians. However, fools are found in high and 
low places. Come with me immediately, Epaphras, 
away from this company. ’ ’ 

“Father,” answered the young man, “I am of 
age and need not obey you unless I wish. I will 
follow you in loving reverence to assist you, but if 
you mean that I must follow you to Colosse, to the 
old life, that I refuse to do.” 

“Be careful, young man, how you speak,” 
answered Theron, “I offer you your choice. Choose 
now and forever. Either you must leave this vile 
sect and return with me to Colosse, or else you can 
go out into the world without a father and without 
an inheritance.” 

“Oh, no, father,” gasped Epaphras, “I shall have 


WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT 167 


my Father in heaven and the inheritance of the 
saints in Christ Jesus.” 

“Choose you!” thundered Theron, his rage in- 
creasing, “now and forever!” 

Epaphras turned red and hesitated, while his 
friends stood around in breathless suspense. 

At last Luke spoke: “Jesus said, ‘There is no man 
that hath left father or mother or lands for the 
kingdom of heaven’s sake, who shall not receive 
manifold more in this present time, and in the world 
to come life everlasting. ’ ’ ’ 

“Silence, knave! Have you not done enough to 
corrupt a son of a Roman citizen already?” screamed 
Theron, beside himself with anger. 

“Father, I have chosen my Father in heaven and 
his inheritance,” said Epaphras. 

“And I shall choose as my son and heir,” mut- 
tered Theron, “the temple of Diana whose glory ye 
blaspheme. It is time the proconsul were informed 
of your wickedness. Come, Tychicus, motioning to 
the slave, return with me. ’ ’ 

Tychicus looked frightened, but Epaphras said, 
“He is legally mine and he shall remain with me.” 

“He is yours,” answered Theron, “I want no 
Christian slaves sniffling around my household and 
corrupting the others. I commend you to your new 
Father, and wish you joy of your inheritance,” 
turning to the door 

“Oh, father,” exclaimed the son, springing 
towards him, “leave me not in anger, but give me 
your blessing before you go. Give my love to 
mother, and tell her that I pray daily for her.” 


i68 


ONESIMUS 


“Is this a madman?” muttered Theron, pushing 
him away. “Never darken my door again.” With 
these words he passed out. 

Epaphras threw himself on a seat and sobbed 
bitterly. 

“Well, my brother,” said Luke, stroking his 
head, as a mother might that of her child, “thou 
hast witnessed a good confession this day, and the 
promise is thine~‘When my father and my mother 
forsake me, then the Lord will take me up. ’ ’ ’ 

“We must provide some means of livelihood for 
him,” said Aquila, who had not spoken before. 
“My shop has too many hands now, but I think we 
can crowd in one more man, so that he can earn his 
bread. ’ ’ 

“It is unnecessary,” replied Glaukos, in a busi- 
nesslike way, “I have long admired the youth. He 
shall fill the place in my home, made vacant when 
God took my own little son.” 

“What is the matter with Archippus?” cried 
Nymphas, springing toward him, for the young 
man had fainted. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THIS SICKNESS IS NOT UNTO DEATH , BUT FOR 
THE GLORY OP GOD 

Archippus was very sick. A year of constant 
study had taken some of the color from his cheeks 
and added too brilliant a luster to his eye. The 
conflict within his spirit between the obedience of 
Christ and his own pleasure, had destroyed more 
nerve force than he had appreciated. The grief 
and worry because of his father’s displeasure had 
preyed upon his mind. So that when the fever, 
ever at home in the Caystrian lowlands, had 
approached, it found the door of his constitution 
open, and it had entered there. Archippus had the 
fever. 

Nymphas had said, as the half-fainting form of 
his friend was lifted from the litter, “My chamber 
is larger and more convenient than his ; he must be 
put in my bed.” 

The beautiful room of Nymphas, so lately devoted 
to study and elegant leisure, thus became a sick 
chamber. Manes moved quietly back and forth, 
shaking his gray head, and silently praying for the 
recovery of his master’s friend. Epaphras and 
Tychicus came every morning with flowers and 
fruit and to ask after the patient’s health. The 
chariot of Glaukos stood often before the door, and 
once and again the dignifled form of the sophist 

169 


170 


ONESIMUS 


Tyrannus was seen ascending the steps. Nymphas 
was untiring in his attentions. Even Onesimus, 
who had grown more dogged of late, watched with 
anxiety without, and willingly obeyed orders. 
Upon the couch, drawn into the center of the room, 
lay the stricken man. He tossed from one side to 
the other, now calling “Father,” “Mother,” “Men- 
odora,” “Christ,” in his delirium; now sunk into a 
deathlike stupor ; and again, weakly thankful during 
lucid intervals for the kindness of friends. 

“The human body contains four humors,” said 
Luke, placing a case of vials upon the table, “blood, 
phlegm, yellow bile and black bile. When these 
are in their right proportion the person enjoys 
health, but when they are wrongly commingled 
various diseases arise. In a fever such as this the 
blood, which is the source of heat, has become too 
thick, and therefore the patient must be bled to 
reduce the quantity and bring the system to its 
proper proportion. The qualities of nature are hot 
and cold, wet and dry ; and since like produces like, 
we must apply cold to him for he is altogether too 
hot. ’ ’ 

Having said this, with a pointed knife he drew 
blood from Archippus’ arm. When it had flowed 
sufficiently, blankets soaked in cold water were 
brought in, and Manes and Onesimus packed the 
patient in them. 

“Here is a powder,” said Luke, drawing a bottle 
from the case. “It is made of an herb which grows 
in the hottest part of the deserts of Arabia. Our 
gracious Father has provided that where heat is 


SICKNESS IS NOT UNTO DEATH 171 


greatest, there the antidote to heat should be found. 
The panting herds gladly chew it when overpowered 
by the sun’s rays. Observation of their instinct has 
led men to the discovery of its virtues ; for which 
we should be thankful. As Jesus went about heal- 
ing all manner of disease among the people, so we 
are to follow in his steps. Paul says he is the Ideal 
Man — the image and type of what humanity is to 
become. I wish Paul were with us now. God hears 
his prayers and grants him the power to perform 
miracles. ’ ’ 

“How shall we administer the powder?” inter- 
rupted Nymphas. 

“The powder is to be boiled in water and allowed 
to cool. Give the drink to Archippus every time 
the sand in the glass runs out during the night. 
Pray also that God will bless the medicine and that 
this sickness may not be unto death but for the 
glory of God. I will come again to-morrow. Good- 
night. ’ ' 

“Nymphas,” said Archippus feebly when Luke 
had departed, “did he say this sickness was unto 
death and to the glory of God.*’ 

“No, Archippus; he said, ‘Pray that it be not 
unto death but for the glory of God. ’ ’ ’ 

“It seemed to me,” continued the sick man 
dreamily, “that I stood at the door of heaven. The 
glory of God filled the place; and Jesus, just as we 
have so often heard him described, stood at God’s 
right hand. He beckoned me to come to him ; but 
I answered, ‘O Lord, I cannot come until my par- 
ents and Menodora have been brought to the truth. , 


172 


ONESIMUS 


He smiled on me, and said, ‘Trust me, Archippus, 
for I died for them as well as for you.’ ” 

Nymphas shook his head sadly. The dream 
seemed to harmonize with his own fears for his 
friend. But he answered cheerily, “A beautiful 
dream, Archippus; but you must take this drink 
which Luke, the beloved physician, left for you, 
and then try to sleep. ’ ’ 

“Nymphas,” said Archippus after a pause, “lam 
sick enough to die. ’ ’ 

The words startled his friend, but he answered, 
“You are very sick; but God has need of many such 
laborers as you, to build in his earthly temple. I 
trust you may be spared for many years of service 
yet. ’ ’ 

“I think I understand the vision,” mused Archip- 
pus, to himself. “I must die but my death will 
bring them to Christ, and you shall marry Meno- 
dora, my Nymphas.” 

Nymphas burst into tears, and, between his sobs, 
cried, “Oh, Archippus, God grant that they may be 
brought to Christ and that I may marry Menodora ; 
but his will be done.” 

“I wish I could see them once again,” murmured 
the other, “and tell them of the love of Christ, but 
I fear it is not to be. ’ ’ 

“There, my young master is not to die!” broke 
in the faithful Manes, who had entered unobserved. 
“Who was it but the Lord Jesus who said to the 
young man at Nain, ‘Young man I say unto thee 
arise’? and did he not abide two days still in the 
same place where he was, when the sisters sent to 


SICKNESS IS NOT UNTO DEATH 173 


him saying, ‘Lord he whom thou lovest is sick’? 
Was not the sickness to death, and also to the glory 
of God, that the Son of God might be glorified 
thereby, and Lazarus rose again? So, young mas- 
ter ; Archippus is not to die, but to live, and declare 
the works of the Lord. And Master Philemon and 
his wife and daughter are not to be left out, for 
Jesus died for them also, and Menodora shall be my 
master’s wife.” 

‘‘God grant it may be so,” softly replied Nym- 
phas, but Archippus made no answer, for he had 
sunk into the sleep of utter weakness. 

‘‘My lord, kneel down here and pray with me,” 
urged Manes, his strong faith making the slave the 
master at such a crisis; “and then send word to 
Colosse summoning Philemon. I will journey to 
Troas and bring Paul back ; so it shall be as I said. ’ ’ 
“You are a wiser and better Christian than I,” 
said Nymphas, when master and slave had knelt in 
prayer, made one in him in whom there is neither 
bond nor free. ‘ ‘ I will write a letter to Philemon 
to-night and dispatch Onesimus with it in the morn- 
ing. You shall go for Paul, for by God’s grace he 
may have power to raise him up. ’ ’ 

“Don’t send Onesimus,” urged Manes, “for you 
need one slave with you. Theron I understand is 
yet in Ephesus, but starts for Colosse to-morrow. 
He is angry at the Christians but would scarcely 
refuse to bear such a message as this.” 

Thus it came to pass that when the sun was 
sparkling on the marble colonnades of the forum 
next morning, two travelers crossed its pavement. 


174 


ONESIMUS 


The one was a solitary slave, who with hopeful mien 
and quick step traveled toward the Coressian gate 
which led tow’ard the north and distant Troas. The 
other was a merchant, borne by six slaves, upon 
whose face were the lines of anger and shame. 

“Waste no time in leaving this vile town,” said 
he, as the slaves lifted the litter and started on a 
trot towards the Magnesian gate, through which 
passed the way to Colosse. 

Different was the departure of the messengers. 
Different was the reception of their message. The 
home at Colosse was overwhelmed with grief when 
the sad tidings spread through the house. Archip- 
pus had ever been popular in the slave court, and 
loud were the lamentations there. While their 
fellows were crying to Apollo or Diana with shrieks 
and wails, thinking to be heard for their much 
speaking, some among the slaves prayed in secret 
to the Father, who heareth in secret. Although the 
master of the house knew it not, the light of the 
Gospel was dawning on Colosse. Apphia sat, dry- 
eyed and stern, holding the letter which her hus- 
band had placed in her hand. Writing at midnight 
beside his friend, whose disease seemed continually 
to grow worse, Nymphas had expressed himself 
without hope, and his message had brought despair 
to the parents’ hearts. 

“Three days have passed since word was sent,” 
said Philemon, “and Archippus may even now be 
dead. Alas! my son, so young and brilliant, how 
cruel is fate to snatch thee from us!” 

“By the furies, I swear it!” cried the mother. 


SICKNESS IS NOT UNTO DEATH 175 


springing to her feet, “it is the judgment of Diana 
upon him for forsaking the gods of his fathers. To 
the goddess I vow a stag with gilded horns, if she 
forgives the sin and heals our son. Philemon, we 
must start for Ephesus this very day.” 

“Silence, Apphia!” said her husband; “we must 
wait till morning ; for already the sun is setting and 
traveling by night is dangerous.” 

“I wonder,” resumed Apphia, “what physician 
they employ. Do they increase the goddess’ anger 
by the use of vile Christian drugs?” 

“If Archippus yet lives when we arrive I shall 
consult the mighty Apollonius himself,” answered 
Philemon. 

“Oh, mother, let me go, too,” begged Menodora, 
rising from her seat and throwing herself at her 
mother’s feet with her face hidden in her lap. 

“You are too frail, my dear, to endure the fatigue 
of the rapid journey,” replied Apphia, “and you 
could be of no use. ’ ’ 

“Oh, but I may never see Archippus again; my 
own dear brother, who never did anything wrong 
until those dreadful Christians led him astray. 
Besides, ’ ’ murmured she to herself, blushing at the 
thought, “perhaps I may win Nymphas back to the 
old faith.” 

“Let the girl go if she will,” said Philemon 
abruptly, arising to give orders in preparation for 
the journey. 

“Oh, mother, I vow my hair to Diana, if she will 
cure Archippus,” sighed Menodora, 

The morning after these events, Paul was praying 


176 


ONESIMUS 


upon the housetop of his lodgings in Troas. The 
view was somber over the dark stone buildings of 
that ancient town, and the spirits of the apostle were 
depressed. Just then there was the sound of steps 
on the stair and Manes appeared on the roof. 

“Why, Manes,” exclaimed the apostle, springing 
from his knees, “ what has happened? How came 
you from distant Ephesus?” 

“Oh, Master,” cried the travel -stained slave, fall- 
ing at his feet; “lord Archippus is dying and 
desires your return. ’ ’ 

When the story was told, Paul replied, “Archip- 
pus is one with our Lord Jesus Christ. He is sur- 
rounded with Christian friends to cheer him in his 
passage to the upper kingdom. Shall I leave my 
labors just renewed here, to visit one who may be 
dead already?” 

“But Master,” cried Manes, “to you the Lord has 
given power to work miracles; we thought you 
might cure Archippus.” 

“God works the miracles, not I,” answered the 
apostle sadly. “Whether it is the Lord’s will to 
raise him up or not I cannot tell. Perhaps he will 
reveal it to me.” 

“But come at any rate,” urged Manes, taking 
him by the mantle. 

“It is enough,” said Paul after a pause; “I 
believe Christ summons me to Ephesus. We will 
go at once. ’ ’ 

The distance from Colosse to Ephesus is about 
one hundred and fifty miles, from Troas to Ephesus 
about one hundred and seventy. Philemon had 


SICKNESS IS NOT UNTO DEATH 177 


provided a horse litter for his wife and daughter; 
while he himself was mounted on his own steed. 
Noon of the third day of their journey, therefore, 
found them moving over the streets of Ephesus ; at 
which time Paul, Manes, Timothy and Erastus, 
traveling on foot, had hardly crossed the boundary 
between Mysia and Lydia. 

Archippus tossed in delirium on his bed, rapidly 
sinking towards that unconscious state, which is the 
portal of death. Luke's skill had proved of little 
avail. Nymphas was watching the patient and the 
door by turns, for he knew that Philemon, if he had 
decided to come, might be expected at any moment. 

“Onesimus,” said he, turning to the slave who 
was wringing out clothes for the bath, “go down 
the street and watch for your master’s father.’’ 

Hardly had Onesimus opened the door when he 
caught sight of Alexander the coppersmith, darkly 
eying the house. It was too late for him to draw 
back for the Jew had seen him. 

“Ah, slave,’’ said he, “how long is the feverish 
carcass of your Christian master to pollute my 
building and injure the prospects for new tenants?’’ 

Onesimus made no answer. 

“Were it not that Nymphas can pay well I would 
fling the whole foul nest into the street. But,’’ 
continued he, “you are a poor spy and of little use 
in our service. Have you lost the poison that 
Demetrius gave you for the apostate, cursed be his 
name?’’ 

“Paul has gone to Troas,’’ stammered Onesimus, 
“and I cannot give it to him.’’ 


178 


ONESIMUS 


“He will be back soon/’ sneered Alexander; 
“and then, knave, we expect a quick and neat piece 
of work from you ; or, by the beard of Aaron, the 
crows will be picking the meat off your lazy bones 
within a week.” 

Onesimus turned pale and was about to renew his 
promises, when Philemon and his company came in 
sight around the corner. 

Archippus recognized no one, but his parents and 
sister heard with unspeakable grief such words as 
these: “Oh, Christ, have mercy on father! The 
ship ! The ship ! I must carry the gospel to Rome 
also. Grace and peace to all the saints ! The love 
of God! A sophist? Oh, no, I belong to Christ! 
Death to the world!” 

“The Christians have bewitched him,” groaned 
Apphia; while Philemon turned sternly to Nym- 
phas — “What physician have you employed?” 

“Luke, one of our company, and a most skilled 
physician of Antioch.” 

“Send him away! send him away!” screamed 
Apphia in agony. “He has killed my son.” 

“Let him not come near the room again, and see 
that all visitors are excluded,” said Philemon to 
Onesimus. “I will see a physician immediately.” 

At last the new doctor arrived and with great 
ceremony entered the room. He was a gray-haired 
man, clad in a dark mantle, and we recognize at 
once the master of the magicians whom we have 
seen in the wine-court of Alexander. 

“Apollonius has left the city,” said Philemon, 
by way of explanation to his wife; “but this skilled 


SICKNESS IS NOT UNTO DEATH 179 

man is able to do everything possible to save our 
son. ’ ’ 

The stranger spoke: “Although Apollonius is 
named a god, -^sculapius himself cannot surpass 
me in the healing art; but is the fee assured for my 
services?” 

“Name your price and heal the boy,” cried Phi- 
lemon shortly. 

Thus assured the physician advanced to the couch, 
felt of Archippus’ pulse, examined his mouth and 
the pupil of his eye. 

“It is a case of simple fever much aggravated by 
sorcery, said he. “Whom have you employed as 
physician?” 

“A fellow named Luke was employed before my 
arrival,” answered Philemon. 

“I thought so,” replied the other, “a Christian 
vagabond, one of the greatest knaves in Ephesus. 
The little skill he has is ever employed for destruc- 
tion. Let him not cast his evil eye upon the 
patient again or he will die. ’ ’ 

“Oh, what shall we do?” groaned Apphia, wring- 
ing her hands. 

“I will walk barefoot to Diana’s temple,” cried 
Menodora, who had not spoken before, “and dedi- 
cate my hair to the goddess. ’ ’ 

“You shall do well, child,” said the physician. 
“And now,” addressing Philemon, “the sorcery 
must be expelled before our drugs can touch the 
fever. It is a slow process, and the fever may 
destroy the youth before we can reach it. Oh, that 
you had summoned me before! The gods them- 


ONESIMUS 


i8o 

selves are not able to turn the arm of fate. First, 
you must purchase prayers this very day in Diana’s 
temple, and post them before every shrine in the 
city, with offerings of oxen and garlands. ’ ’ 

Philemon bowed his head in assent. 

“Then you must purchase Ephesian letters in my 
stall on Mount Prion, which, boiled in water, will 
make a powerful drug to expel demons. Beside 
this, half a hundred priestesses must be hired to 
chant prayers in the temple. When this is done I 
can reach the fever with my medicines, ’ ’ and with 
a lofty bow he departed. 

“I must obey his instructions at once,” exclaimed 
Philemon, seizing his money girdle, and following 
the magician into the street. 

Apphia bent over her son with that agony of soul 
which seizes the very wheel of fate only to find its 
movement irresistible. 

“Onesimus,” she said sharply, “procure at once 
a penitent’s mantle that Menodora may fulfill her 
vow. ’ ’ 

She had been beautiful on that May morning, 
when clad in costly silk, she sat radiant with pleas- 
ure in the theater, while the words of Nymphas 
thrilled her soul. Her beauty remained but it was 
changed as she emerged from her chamber dressed 
in a mourner’s robe. Her cheeks were wet with 
tears which still would flow from beneath the down- 
cast lids. Embarrassment and grief had suffused 
her face with crimson. In spite of his anxiety, 
Nymphas thought that he had never seen her more 
charming. The long, golden hair unbound trailed 


SICKNESS IS NOT UNTO DEATH i8i 


nearly to the ground. Her only garment was 
a heavy piece of black sack-cloth. Ungirt it fell 
from her shoulders to the graceful ankle. The 
purity of throat, of bare arms and feet, gleamed 
white as snow against such a background. 

Alone she passed from the door upon the street. 
The corner loungers stared at the vision. They 
were not unfamiliar with the spectacle of the god- 
dess's devotees, for as long as grief and remorse 
remain, will humanity endeavor to propitiate unseen 
powers. They gazed because they had seldom seen 
one so fair. Through the crowded way she went, 
safe now from all attack. No ruffian in Ephesus 
would dare expose himself to Diana’s wrath by an 
act of sacrilege against her worshiper. 

The way seemed so long, the autumn wind was so 
cold, the pavement so hard. She shuddered as she 
passed the mighty portal which had witnessed the 
assault upon herself. Beyond the gate, under the 
stately trees of the avenue, the thought of the time 
she had walked that path with Nymphas rushed upon 
her. Her tears for a dying brother were mingled 
with tears for a lost lover. She had never known 
how much sorrow there was in the world before. 

“It is all the fault of those dreadful Christians,’’ 
she murmured. “They are killing Archippus, and 
they have bewitched Nymphas.’’ 

At the temple stair she knelt until a priest came 
to ask her purpose. “I have vowed my hair to 
Diana for my brother’s recovery.’’ 

“Where is your money?” 

Menodora produced a double stater which her 


i 82 


ONESIMUS 


mother had provided. The priest then led her to 
the door of the temple, from which she could behold 
a fire of coals upon a brazen altar, dimly illuminat- 
ing the stony interior of the shrine. Upon the walls 
were suspended festoons of gold and silver toys. 
They were the gifts of those whose vows had 
brought relief to themselves or friends. 

Menodora repeated in low tone, after the official, 
the appropriate prayers; while he sprinkled her 
with holy water. Again she advanced until she 
stood, murmuring her supplications at the altar 
side. Here the shears, so careless of the beautiful, 
cut away the locks which had grown since early 
childhood. A strange fascination held her eye upon 
the flame which hissed cruelly around her offering, 
and devoured it with greedy, red tongue. “With- 
draw backward from this sacred place, ’ ’ whispered 
the priest, “and descend the stair kneeling. On 
every step pause to pray. The omens are propi- 
tious, and if your brother be not healed, it will be 
because you have profaned these sacred mysteries 
by careless, unworthy thought. ’ ’ 

At the foot of the stair, Menodora turned sadly 
towards home. The weight on her heart felt 
heavier than before. 

As she passed the gate of the temple grounds, 
within a thick grove, she saw the litter of Nymphas 
and the young man standing by it. 

He approached her with a sad smile on his face 
and said, “Menodora, the way is long. You are 
tired and anxious. Get into my litter and be car- 
ried home. ’ ’ 


SICKNESS IS NOT UNTO DEATH 183 


“No, never!” cried she, “it would destroy the 
effect of my vow. Besides, it belongs to a Chris- 
tian.” 

“Cannot a Christian do a kindness for you?” 
asked the youth simply. 

“Leave me at once,” groaned Menodora, burst- 
ing into tears. 

“What have I done, my darling, that you will 
have nothing to do with me? I love you more than 
aught else in the world. ’ ’ 

Still she wept. 

“Do you not know that I love you?” — drawing 
nearer. 

The girl looked up and answered, “How can you 
say you love me more than aught else, when you 
gave me up for the sake of a crucified malefactor?” 

“Oh, Menodora, how shall I make you under- 
stand? My duty to the Son of God is superior to 
every earthly interest.” 

“So long as you are a Christian,” replied she, 
“my father would never give me to you. He was 
terribly angry when he heard what you and Archip- 
pus had done. Now Diana is also taking ven- 
geance, ’ ’ and the tears began to flow afresh. 

The face of Nymphas was working painfully. It 
was with difficulty that he restrained himself. He 
drew very near. He took both of the little, blood- 
less hands in his. She did not draw them away. 

“Tell me one thing, Menodora, if your father 
were willing that you should marry a Christian, 
would you be willing?” For answer the graceful 
head rested on his shoulder, and his lips met hers. 


184 


ONESIMUS 


“It is growing towards evening,” said Nymphas 
after a pause, the gladness of the first word sinking 
into a despairing tone as he spoke. “If you will 
not ride in my litter, it is time that you pass on. 
God bless you, my dear, for that sign,’^ as the 
maiden moved away. 

The place of meeting was a secluded spot. 

Demetrius was fond of secluded spots. He had 
walked into the grove that he might be alone to plan 
how he might make the most money from the con- 
tract which he had arranged between Alexander 
and the priests. 

Suddenly he paused and peered amid the 
branches. 

The expression of study passed from his face as 
he muttered to himself, “By Venus! she is again 
in Ephesus. Clad in a mourner’s robe, too, by all 
the gods! Nymphas is in love with her, and she 
does not hate him. Ah, ah! Look out, young 
doves, that the hawk does not find your nest.” 

Next day Archippus was worse and it was evident 
that the end was near. Epaphras and Nymphas 
waited uneasily in the adjoining room, while in the 
sick chamber the voice of the magician could be 
heard. “Alas, I fear you have waited too long and 
the sorcery has gained too strong a hold. Would 
that you had called me sooner. The blood of a 
cock, sacred to -^sculapius, mixed with honey, the 
fruit of the bee sacred to Diana, is often efficacious 
even in extreme cases. Let it be prepared at 
once.” 

Just then the outer door opened and a low cry of 


SICKNESS IS NOT UNTO DEATH 185 


delight broke from the lips of Nymphas. Paul was 
ascending the stair. 

“We came as fast as we could,” said Manes, pant- 
ing from his exercise. “How is Archippus?” 

“Dying,” answered Nymphas, sadly, “but,” turn- 
ing to Paul, “does God give you power to heal?” 

“I have faith in the promise given,” returned he; 
“ ‘They shall lay hands on the sick and they shall 
recover.’ My faith takes hold of that word and 
Archippus shall live. Lead me to his chamber. ’ ’ 

“His parents will object,” broke in Onesimus, 
who stood listening. 

“I shall enter, however,” said Paul, advancing. 

At the door the great Apostle of the Gentiles 
and the sorcerer stood face to face. It was as if 
truth and falsehood, righteousness and wickedness, 
superstition and religion, were gazing at each other. 
Each recognized the other and the magician spoke 
first. 

“Thou shalt not enter here, O renegade Jew, for 
thy presence will cast evil upon the whole com- 
pany ” 

“Stand aside, thou child of the devil,” answered 
Paul, as he entered the room. Before that mighty 
personality his enemy felt himself to cringe. 

“Thrust him out,” he cried in a moment, “Oh, 
lord Philemon! This is the great leader of the 
Christians who has brought all this evil on your son. ’ ’ 

Philemon realized that the physician of his own 
choice had failed, and a vague hope entered his 
mind that Paul might do some good, so he said 
nothing. 


i86 


ONESIMUS 


“Your son will need no more herbs but the 
parsley for his tomb. I will send my bill to-mor- 
row,” said the sorcerer in a mocking voice as he 
hastily left the room. 

Paul’s presence made him experience a sense of 
suffocation. 

The apostle stood by the bed of the unconscious 
Archippus lost in prayer. After a few moments 
spent thus he said calmly and slowly, “Archippus, 
Jesus Christ maketh thee whole, arise and be 
healed!” 

His word was with such assurance that Apphia, 
Menodora, and even Philemon were carried by it 
into the realm of faith. 

A flush suffused the young man’s features, his 
eyes opened, he sat up and said, “Why, Mother, 
how came you here?” 

“Your son is healed,” said Paul quietly to Phi- 
lemon. “I will withdraw into the next room.’* 

“Midday, and I in bed!” exclaimed Archippus. 
“How is that? Oh, I remember now. The fever! 
But I feel strong and well. Never better in my 
life!” 

With that he sprang from his couch upon the 
floor, while Apphia and Menodora seized him in 
their arms. 

As the parents feel, who, having seen their child 
sink in the waters, find him restored to life, so felt 
father, mother and sister, as they embraced Archip- 
pus. Yet mingled with their feeling of joy was a 
solemn sense of awe almost akin to fear. 

The friends and Paul now entered and sat beside 


SICKNESS IS NOT UNTO DEATH 187 


Archippus, while he ravenously ate the food which 
Onesimus brought on a charger. 

“It was the Lord Jesus Christ and not Diana,” 
said Nymphas to Philemon, “who healed your 
son.” 

“It is truly marvelous,” answered Philemon. “I 
am determined to put myself under Christian 
instruction and probe this matter to the bottom. ’ ’ 

“The God who has done this shall be my God,” 
said Apphia devoutly. 

“To think,” cried Menodora, shaking her closely- 
cut curls, “that I should have lost my locks to 
that foolish Diana, when Archippus’ Christ is the 
mightier God of the two.” 

“This may not be the time or place to ask the 
questionj” said Nymphas, “but may I speak, most 
noble Philemon?” 

“I know your desire,” replied the other with a 
smile, “Menodora, do you love the noble Nym- 
phas?” 

Menodora’s blushes were her only but sufficient 
answer. Philemon continued: “As I, in igno- 
rance, refused her hand to a Christian, so now, in 
knowledge, I gladly grant her to the noble Nym- 
phas, son of my old friend, and servant to him 
whom I intend to call Master. ’ ’ 

Nymphas clasped Menodora in his arms and a 
sense of that perfect joy which comes once in almost 
every life came into their hearts. All wept 
together, and Paul, the strong man, in broken 
accents voiced the thought of each, when he said, 
“Let us give thanks.” 


ONESIMUS 


1 88 

Soon after, Onesimus, revealing in his counte- 
nance the awful struggle which raged within his 
breast, was washing the dishes from which Archip- 
pus had eaten. Manes appeared in the doorway, a 
light in his honest face that shone through his tears 
like the sun through a morning mist. Looking at 
Onesimus he said, “Did I not say that this sickness 
was not unto death but for the glory of God?” 


CHAPTER “XIV 


THE SPIDER’S WEB 

The chamber which Nymphas had rented of 
Alexander had a small room upon the flat roof. It 
was not the usual Aliyah of eastern houses, the 
large upper chamber such as that in which Jesus 
met with his disciples on the night before his death. 
This was a little room entered by a trap door and 
enclosed with panes of crystal, at that period a 
luxury enjoyed only by the rich. In this apartment 
the students had often sat on summer evenings 
when the heavy dews drove them from the exposure 
of the roof. But as the cool days of autumn multi- 
plied, the chamber was deserted, except on a sunny 
midday, for the warmer interior of the house. 
Abandoned by the others the place was appropriated 
by Onesimus, whose morose heart made solitude 
almost a necessity for him. 

As we behold him he sits upon a low stool, with 
a sullen angry eye, looking out over the myriad 
roofs of the city. In his hand is a crushed piece of 
papyrus upon which we catch sight of a rude draw- 
ing. A cup is sketched, from which a bird, symbol 
of the departing soul, is escaping; and beside it a 
cross upon which hangs a human figure, while 
underneath is written, “This for him at once, or 
that for you.” Hebrew characters and heathen 
inscriptions rendered the whole drawing of more 

189 


190 


ONESIMUS 


ominous import. No stranger who might see the 
picture would comprehend its meaning, but to 
Onesimus it was the token that a frightful crisis 
was upon him. 

Human dispositions may be grouped into two 
great classes. Men are lovers of pleasure, or lovers 
of freedom. The former class includes all those 
natures which prefer an easy present to a better 
future gained through struggle. They are not only 
the shiftless ; but those who yield rather than main- 
tain their rights by force. They are pleasant people 
and they make few enemies, but they lack the 
stronger qualities of the martyr. As water assumes 
the form of the vessel into which it flows, so do they 
adapt themselves to their surroundings. The latter 
class is composed of persons of stronger will but less 
agreeable disposition. As children they are hard to 
govern; as men they throw themselves into the 
struggle of ambition and the strife of business. 
They chafe amid uncongenial surroundings, and 
either succeed in making their conditions fit them, 
or are destroyed in the attempt. Of this class are 
the great reformers and martyrs ; the great fanatics 
and revolutionists of the world. They attain to a 
higher success or they sink to a lower failure than 
those of less determined purpose. If one who may 
be classed as a lover of pleasure be placed in slavery, 
he makes the best of his lot, and when treated with 
kindness, becomes content with it. If one who is a 
lover of freedom be a slave, he struggles with his 
bonds, be they ever so easy, and becomes an unruly 
servant, a plotter for liberty and escape. If all his 


THE SPIDER’S WEB 


191 

plans are thwarted he pines away like a freeborn 
bird within a cage. 

Onesimus was by nature a lover of freedom. 
Cast upon the bosom of a cruel world, he had been 
rescued from death by one of those villains, the 
product of the slave system, who make their wealth 
by speculation in children. By such persons found- 
lings are taken, not from compassion, but that the 
boys may be sold in the market as laborers or 
servants, and the girls for a worse purpose. Onesi- 
mus’ first recollection was of ill treatment and 
scanty fare; of the master’s whip, and of an old 
woman who performed the office of mother for him 
with much the same affection that the incubator 
has for the newly-hatched chick. Even then he 
had fretted against the confinements of the nursery 
pen in which he and his fellow unfortunates had 
their home. Sold from one to another, he at last, 
when sick, had been purchased for a mere trifle by 
Philemon. From that time he had experienced kind 
treatment. Many a slave would have considered 
himself fortunate to be in such a situation ; but to 
the young Onesimus the fact of slavery galled his 
soul like an iron fetter. He was naturally of a 
bright mind, and his education had not been alto- 
gether neglected by his original owners, for intelli- 
gence has its market value. Philemon had been 
careful for his instruction, so that his attainments 
were considerable. 

“He that increases wisdom increases sorrow,’’ 
says the wise man ; and of such a nature, so placed, 
the word is true. Thus Onesimus became more 


192 


ONESIMUS 


morose and ill-tempered as plots to escape floated 
before his imagination and were condemned by 
his intelligence as impossible. Of course he had 
false ideas of freedom, for he mistook license for 
liberty ; a mistake not surprising under the circum- 
stances. It was in a night’s debauch that he com- 
mitted the offense which enabled Paul’s enemies to 
make him their unwilling tool and spy. Thus his 
false freedom had brought him into a worse bond- 
age. He was angry at Rachel, with the passionate 
anger of a discarded and deceived lover. The joy 
of anticipated liberty and of her possession had 
turned to gall within his heart. He hated Alexan- 
der and his companions with all the intensity of his 
nature; but he feared them yet more. He well 
understood their power and wickedness. No doubt 
they could bring him, though innocent, to destruc- 
tion ; and much more when guilty. They had 
obtained the advantage by the knowledge of his 
crime; and the fear of the cross was the bit by 
which they made him the slave of their vile pur- 
poses. 

Onesimus was not incapable of appreciating moral 
beauty. He admired the Christians. He greatly 
respected Paul. Nay, he might even have yielded 
to the oft-repeated entreaties of Manes and have 
become a Christian himself, if he had not been 
detained by the fear of Alexander’s wrath. There- 
fore, although he carried to him information con- 
cerning the Christians, and performed the office of 
spy; it was with an inward revulsion of feeling 
which made him utterly miserable, and impressed 


THE SPIDER’S WEB 


193 


upon his mind his double bondage. He acknowl- 
edged that Archippus was his legal master ; a hard 
thought for such a lover of freedom. He knew that 
Alexander, Demetrius and Rabbi Isaac were his 
masters also, and his very soul loathed itself and 
life. 

The message which he had just received had cut 
his heart like a knife. He had become somewhat 
used to their talk of the murder of Paul, and had 
put it off again and again, but now he realized that 
they would brook delay no longer. A storm of 
bitter feeling was raging within him. He was 
tempted to rush to Archippus and tell him the 
whole, begging his protection. Alas ! he well knew 
that such a course would so excite the enmity of his 
task-masters that no place in the world would be 
safe from their vengeance. He pictured to himself 
another possible course — refusal. He could refuse 
to perform their bidding. Thoughts of his accusa- 
tion, arrest, short hearing, torture to compel him to 
reveal the names of his companions, and then the 
bitter and shameful death of the cross, floated 
before his mind. Was there no other way? He 
might attempt to flee. Impracticable, with the 
dark eye of Alexander ever upon him. Suicide? 
He drew back from the idea with a shudder. 

A little -fly tempted from its winter rest was buzz- 
ing against the crystal pane. Suddenly it plunged 
into a web, and in a moment was the spider’s pris- 
oner. Quickly the black body of the jailer darted 
from its den. The fly struggled hard against its 
fate but was overcome and became the spider’s 


194 


ONESIMUS 


prey. The eye of Onesimus had almost uncon- 
sciously watched its struggle and he burst into a 
mocking laugh at its tragic end, a laugh not of 
pleasure but of cynicism at fate. “By Hercules!’* 
he said, “I am that fly, seeking to gain my freedom 
through the crystal pane. I have fallen into the 
spider’s web and shall meet the fly’s fate.’’ 

“Onesimus, Onesimus, come down and help me!’’ 

The cheery call was from Manes; and Onesimus 
started to his feet, crushing the papyrus into his 
bosom, and descended the stair. 

“I am more busy than usual,’’ exclaimed Manes, 
as Onesimus appeared at the door of the court, “for 
your master’s father, Epaphras, Paul and Nymphas 
will dine together at supper and I want to do them 
honor. The Master said, ‘He that receiveth a 
prophet in the name of a prophet, shall receive a 
prophet’s reward. ’ Paul is certainly a prophet and 
we owe him all respect. ’ ’ 

A dark cloud seemed to pass over Onesimus’ face 
and his hand trembled on the casement. He forced 
himself to answer calmly, “What do you want me 
to do?’’ 

“I am busy with the stew for supper, but do you 
chop and mix these figs. You can do it as well 
as I.’’ 

Onesimus obeyed mechanically. Was it true then 
that Diana, whom Demetrius worshiped, or Alex- 
ander’s God, Jehovah, really favored the plot? If 
they did, the opportunity for its performance could 
hardly have been more convenient. And yet the 
hand, which quickly poured a dark liquid into one 


THE SPIDER’S WEB 


195 


of the dishes, revolted from its task ; and the heart 
of its owner gave a sudden start, when Manes said, 
“Why do you put the figs in separate dishes? It 
was ever our custom to serve them together. ’ ’ 

“I thought,” stammered Onesimus in great em- 
barrassment; “I thought it was more fashionable.” 

“Well, since it is done, you need not change 
them, but it never was customary in the household 
of Nymphas. ” When Onesimus realized that the 
poison was in the dish, that Paul was about to take 
his place at that table where the figs stood, a wave 
of emotion passed over his soul with such force that 
it made him sick and dizzy. He detested the crime 
and those who drove him to it. He feared for the 
result ; and yet a sense of relief came over him that 
the vile task was done. 

“Manes,” he said, as he heard the master and his 
guests enter the door, “I am not well and must 
have fresh air. Do you wait on the table for I must 
seek the street.” 

The wind blew in eddying gusts from Mount 
Coressus, and he felt chilled and sick at heart. The 
streets were full of people returning home from 
their daily toil, or laden with the produce of the 
market; but in all that crowd there was none to 
whom he dared to tell his secret. He walked rapidly 
down one street, which was lighted from the shops 
at its sides, and into another which was dark. The 
guilty hate the light. 

“Now,” he mused, “they are at the table, now 
Paul is talking of the kingdom of heaven and of 
salvation by Christ, for he carefully explains these 


196 


ONESIMUS 


things whenever Philemon is present. Now, per- 
haps, he is eating the figs. What a commotion 
there will be among the Christians when they hear 
that Paul is dead ! Pehaps they will suspect me of 
the crime. It may bring me to the cross yet Gods, 
how cold it is, and how sick I feel ! Suppose Paul 
by his marvelous power knows what I have done 
and cures himself. May be he will curse me, and 
his curse would be awful. ’ ’ 

Onesimus’ teeth chattered, and his knees smote 
together. 

‘ ‘ Diana or Christ — whichever is God, deliver me 
from my bondage. ” 

A dark figure, unnoticed by Onesimus, now 
approached him from the shadow. 

“Knave, I knew you the moment I saw you, as I 
returned from the sale of the fair Leah to a Co- 
rinthian merchant. By all the prophets, she brought 
too small a price.” 

Onesimus sought to escape, but Alexander held 
him by the mantle. “You received the picture I 
sent, now act on it. ’ ’ 

“I have,” faltered Onesimus, “and the poison is 
given. ’ ’ 

It is well that the smile of fiendish exaltation upon 
the face of Alexander was hidden by the darkness. 
Some things there are that disgrace the light. 

“Ah, ah,” he replied — it was his nearest approach 
to a laugh — “You have? When?” 

“To-night, in a dish of figs for supper.” 

“Ah, ah, there will be a big funeral among the 
N azarenes ! Ah, ah ! ” 


THE SPIDER’S WEB 


197 


Then turning to Onesimus, “You have saved your 
neck, now report to us from time to time all that 
you can find out of the apostates, and all will be 
well. ’ ’ 

“Am I to have no pay for this?” answered the 
slave, angered at the manner of the coppersmith. 

“Pay! dog, replied the other, spurning him with 
his foot, “is it not enough pay that the vultures are 
kept waiting for their meal on your bowels?” 

And, chuckling to himself, Alexander seemed 
rather to glide than to walk away in the darkness. 

Onesimus crouched by a wall, and, drawn as by 
an unseen attraction, was soon in front of the cham- 
ber of Nymphas. The door was suddenly opened 
and in the glare of light from within he beheld 
Archippus, Paul, Philemon, Nymphas and Epaphras 
descend the broad stair, and walk rapidly down the 
street. He followed them until he saw them enter 
the schoolroom of Tyrannus, where he knew the 
Christians were assembled. Stealing back he 
repeated over and over to himself, “It will take 
effect in the meeting, it will surely take effect in 
the meeting.” Chilled in body, and despairing 
in soul, he entered the house. 

The table in the hall was but partially cleared 
away and the supper dishes had not been washed. 
The lamp was fiaring on its stand, casting a lurid 
glare over the apartment. From the bedroom of 
Nymphas, Onesimus heard the sound of groans, 
ejaculations and prayers. Hastily entering, he 
beheld Manes lying upon his master’s bed, writhing 
in agony. 


ONESIMUS 


198 

“Why, Manes, what is the matter?” cried Onesi- 
mus, a dreadful thought flashing through his 
mind. 

“Oh, the pain, the pain, O Christ, have mercy!” 
groaned the old man. “I feel as if I were on Are 
inside.” 

“Manes, tell me what is the matter,” a sudden 
tenderness coming into the voice of Onesimus as he 
spoke. 

“Why, after you went out,” gasped Manes, in the 
midst of his pangs, “the masters reclined at the 
table. They were fearful of being late at the love 
feast, and only ate part of their supper. They asked 
me to accompany them, but I said I would clear the 
chamber first and then follow them.” 

“What did you do then?” urged Onesimus in a 
frightened voice. 

“Then I ate a little supper myself and began to 
do the work, when the pain attacked me, and I 
threw myself down here. ’ ’ 

“What did you eat?” 

“Some stewed mutton and bread, and a dish of 
figs, ’ ’ gasped Manes, rolling over in his agony. 

Onesimus felt tempted to throw himself down by 
the side of the couch and confess the truth. It had 
seemed dreadful to him to poison Paul, but that the 
faithful Manes, the kindest fellow-slave he had ever 
known, should be poisoned by his hand was too 
dreadful to realize. With a great sob he exclaimed, 
“What can I do?” 

“I will die,” said Manes, weakly, “and Christ will 
receive my poor old soul. Run to the assembly and 


THE SPIDER’S WEB 


199 


fetch my master and the others, that I may see them 
before I go. ’ ’ 

“I will fetch Paul, he may cure you,” answered 
Onesimus, rushing from the room. 

Great was the surprise of the saints when the 
heathen Onesimus darted into the assembly, and, 
panting, seized Paul by the mantle in the very act 
of breaking bread. Onesimus was not in favor with 
the Christian slaves because of his obduracy to all 
their entreaties, and horny hands were clinched for 
the defense of the apostle at the sight. 

When the explanation was given, Paul grasped 
his outer coat, and, followed by the friends, soon 
entered the door of Nymphas. Everything was as 
Onesimus had left it half an hour before, but not a 
sound was heard. Nymphas raised the curtain of 
the alcove and the others crowded in. Manes lay 
upon the bed. The look of agony which Onesimus 
had seen had passed away, and a smile, as of one 
who beholds something beautiful, was upon his 
face. Nymphas laid his hand upon his forehead and 
said in a low voice, “He is dead.” 

In no respect did the religion of Christ change 
the opinions and feelings of men more than in 
regard to death. The heathen dreaded death 
throughout his whole life, and met it with hopeless 
submission. Homer’s hero would rather be the 
poorest and most despised of men than to be king 
of shades. That wealthy patron of learning, Maece- 
nas, said, that he was content to endure all earthly 
ills so only life was spared to him. The heathen 
sorrowed for the departed without hope, wrote a 


200 


ONESIMUS 


hopeless epitaph over the remains, and himself died 
without hope. The heathen slave, having been 
nothing but a chattel in life, in death was dragged 
out of the city and buried with the burial of an ass. 

He who abolished death, and brought life and 
immortality to light through the gospel, changed all 
this. The early Christians sorrowed for those who 
were asleep ; but not as others who had no hope. 
They wrote and spoke cheerfully of the sleeping 
ones, and approached death not as an end of life, 
but as a door to life. The Christian slave was a 
brother in Christ, and shared a brother’s love; for 
Christ broke down the middle wall of partition 
between master and servant. 

So it was in the case of Manes. There was 
neither indifference nor stony grief by his bier. 
Nymphas shed tears as for a trusty friend and 
adviser, while Menodora said artlessly, “Poor 
Manes ! I thought he would be’such a good servant 
in our home, and I am sure he would have taught 
me how to be a Christian. I lay this branch of 
cypress on his coffin. It is a sign, not that I sorrow 
for Manes, who the great apostle says is asleep in 
Jesus, but as a sign that I am sorry that he has left 
us.” 

The heathen rites at the funeral, such as placing 
a coin between” the teeth of the departed, and of 
cakes as provision for the journey, were all omitted ; 
but numerous was the gathering of Christians who 
listened to Paul’s words of comfort. Glaukos was 
there, for the great man honored the slave as his 
brother in Christ. Aquila and Priscilla, Timothy, 


THE SPIDER’S WEB 


301 


Erastus, Aristarchus, Luke, and many others of the 
disciples were present. Onesimus sat by, stony- 
eyed and silent. He seemed to himself to be 
smothered under a load of sin and misery. 

On the southern slope of Mount Prion, beyond the 
city wall, was a cemetery, where the better class of 
trades-people buried their dead. Here it was that 
almost half a century later the Church of Christ laid 
to rest the last of the apostles, John the Beloved. 
In this place Nymphas purchased a grave, cut in 
the side of a cliff, and thither they bore the body of 
the faithful Manes early on the morning of the 
third day. 

When the coffin had been put in its niche and a 
slab of stone placed before it, Nymphas said, 
“Brethren, ye knew the man who sleeps here — a 
faithful servant, a tried friend, a true Christian. 
Write upon the stone': ‘MANES, SERVANT OF 
NYMPHAS OF LAODICEA, FREEDMAN OF 
JESUS CHRIST. HE SLEEPS IN PEACE. 
HE WILL AWAKE IN THE MORNING. 
THE FOURTH YEAR OF THE TWO HUN- 
DRED AND EIGHTH OLYMPIAD.’ ’’ 


CHAPTER XV 


SO MIGHTILY GREW THE WORD OF GOD, AND 
PREVAILED 

“This is a great day for Ephesus!” 

“How so, O garlic-eating son of Pluto?” 

“By Hercules! was it not a great day for Ephesus 
when the son of Codrus defeated the Amazons?” 

“Yes.” 

“And was it not a great day for Ephesus when 
Lysimachus gained his power?” 

“Yes.” 

“Was it not another great day for our fathers 
when the Roman Sulla marched his victorious 
legions into the Ephesian forum?” 

“By Diana! it was; but why do you question me 
like any sophist his pupil?” 

“Is it not a great occasion when Christ succeeds 
Diana?” 

“Now, by all the gods! thou art gone mad; for 
the maid of Delphi herself cannot equal thee for 
raving! How has Christ succeeded Diana?” 

“Does he not succeed her when all the multitude 
perform his rites and swear by his name? When 
priests and soothsayers from the temple confess 
their sins, burn their books and follow the circum- 
cised Paul more willingly than they ever followed 
Bacchus? This very day they are to burn their 
books before the Coressian gate. ' ’ 

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THE WORD OF GOD 


203 


“Perhaps thou sayest true, O sunburnt son of 
Neptune; but what difference does it make to thee 
whether it be Christ or Diana? I presume these 
Christians buy your fish as well as they used to 
before they were born of God, as they say. “ 

“By Hercules! yes, and pay for them in honest 
money better than they ever did before ; for which 
I would vow a fish to this Christ in gratitude, if I 
could only find his altar. These Christians are a 
queer set. I hear they are atheists, for they have 
neither image nor temple. But here comes the 
shrine-maker, Demetrius, looking as if Charon had 
just refused him the passage of the Styx. Health 
to thee, O servant of Diana!” 

Demetrius thus addressed, eyed the two bare- 
legged fishermen disdainfully, and replied, “What 
health can there be in Ephesus when the Great 
Diana is despised? Have ye strong arms?” 

“By father Neptune, we have. Dost want us to 
try a tilt with Hercules to-day?” 

“No, not now; but such as you may be needed 
before long to break heads. Hark ye” — in a lower 
tone — “remain near the forum, and in time of com- 
motion follow any leader of the mob, and it will be 
to your advantage.” 

Thus saying, he passed on. 

“ ‘Linger around the forum,’ says he,” said one 
fisherman to the other. “Tides and schools of fish 
await not his pleasure. But let’s towards the Cores- 
sian gate to see the sights. 

The crowd was gathering thick and fast, so that 
already the Sacred Way of Diana was nearly blocked. 


204 


ONESIMUS 


“Look, there goes Alexander the coppersmith, 
not a stingier knave in all Ephesus. He would pick 
the money from between the teeth of a corpse, and 
leave the shade to wander forever in misery. ’ ’ 

“Sayest thou so, my Manto? Then his daughter 
Rachel is more free with her charms than her father 
is with his staters. ’ ’ 

“A chip of the old block; for look ye, he would 
sell his soul to Pluto for gold; and she has just 
come out as a hetsera, willing to sell herself for 
gold — her father’s child. 

“The more fool she, when her father’s fortune is 
reckoned in talents. ’ ’ 

“All women are fools, my friend. But here we 
are in the court before the Coressian gate. Yonder 
is the sophist’s school where the Christians meet. 
They say they cook the eyes of children for love- 
potions, and eat their flesh in that chamber. Her- 
cules! what a crowd! Let us mount the wall and 
view the spectacle. ” 

We will stand with these types of ordinary Ephe- 
sians and also look upon the scene, O reader. The 
gray stone building, upon the third floor of which 
was the schoolroom of Tyrannus, loomed dark 
above the city wall, and cut, with grim outline, the 
fleecy sky of early spring. Every window of that 
chamber, as well as the windows of the gate tower, 
with which the schoolroom connected, was full of 
faces. On the open square before the gate there 
was a surging mass of people. Each was eager to 
press beyond his neighbor to obtain a better view of 
the foot of the stair which led to the apartments 


THE WORD OF GOD 


205 


above. We catch a glimpse of a pile of hewn wood 
and straw, evidently intended for* a fire, which 
three or four stalwart slaves were guarding. On 
the platform before the door, at the head of the 
stair, stood Paul, Luke, and several other prominent 
Christians of Ephesus. On the stair were a number 
of persons in whom the interest of the crowd seemed 
to center. 

At last one of them, a tall man of commanding 
presence, motioned with his hand ; the crowd 
became quiet and he said, “Ye men of Ephesus, ye 
have known me these many years as chief of the 
college of augurs, and one of the priests of Diana. 
I confess to you this day with shame, that my meth- 
ods of reading the secrets of nature and the fortunes 
of men have been frauds. With lies have I deceived 
the people of Ephesus and gained my wealth. ’ ’ 

At this word, a howl, partly of praise, and partly 
an ominous sound of wrath, broke from the multi- 
tude. 

When the noise subsided he continued: “Men of 
Ephesus, I have turned from vain idols to serve the 
living and true God, and to wait for his Son from 
heaven, even Jesus, who lived and died for us, that 
whether we wake or sleep we should live together 
with him. I have here my roll of Ephesian letters. 
They are curiously wrought ; and many have been 
the hours I have spent pondering over them, half 
believing in their power. They are useless things, 
yea, worse than useless ; for by them men are led 
into error. ’ ’ Thus saying he threw a number of rolls 
of vellum, beautifully gilded, upon the pile of wood 


206 


ONESIMUS 


by his feet. Having done this, he stood with 
flushed face and uplifted hand before the people. 
His voice was trembling as he began ; but became 
clear and strong as he spoke. “My fortune, O fel- 
low citizens, is estimated at one hundred and fifty 
talents. I cannot ’'restore this money to every one 
who has paid me for my art. The company is 
innumerable. But I devote it all to the service of 
Christ in the person of his poor. ’ ’ 

Before the murmuring of the crowd could become 
a roar, another man stepped forward. He was 
young, clean shaven, and handsome. 

“I have been, O Ephesians,” he cried in a clear 
voice, “devoted to study from my youth. To 
explore the secrets of nature was my purpose. I 
counted myself a disciple of Euclous of Cyprus. 
Here are his works which I commit to the flames, 
for I have found another master who reveals the 
truth to men, even Jesus of Nazareth.” 

“It is the witch mother, it is the witch mother of 
Mount Prion, ’ ’ ran the murmur through the crowd, 
as an old woman, before unobserved while seated on 
the lowest step, arose and leaned upon a crooked 
staff. Her form was bent, her hair was gray, but a 
bright light shone in her eye. Her voice could only 
be heard by those nearest to the pile. 

“How many of you,” she murmured, “have paid 
me for fortunes? The youths of Ephesus consulted 
me in affairs of love and honor. For the maidens 
I have interpreted dreams and prepared potions. 
Did I believe in my teachings?” she exclaimed, her 
voice growing shriller. “Yes, I believed in them. 


THE WORD OF GOD 


207 


and yet I believed not. But it has passed now, and 
I know they are the works of the devil. I desire to 
be at peace with the God of truth, who can save 
even such as I, through Jesus Christ His Son. O 
God, forgive my lies, O men of Ephesus, forgive my 
lies,” she cried, seizing an armful of rolls and 
throwing them on the heap. 

“The writings of Antichares and Musseus to the 
flames!” screamed another, casting several boxes of 
rolls on the pfle. 

“I confess Christ by destroying my works on the 
interpretation of dreams, ’ ’ cried another. 

“The works of all the sibyls to the flames, for the 
glory of God,” said a woman, advancing from the 
group to place her offering in position. 

At that moment, one of the men who was acting 
as guard struck a fire, and soon a cloud of smoke 
and flame proclaimed the burning of the books. 
The crowd watched in silence and with breathless 
interest the blazing heap; while, once and again, 
more rolls and cases of books were added to the 
flame. 

When the fire was subsiding there were those 
amid the multitude who sought to raise a tumult 
against the group upon the stair. One of them 
addressed our friends, the fishermen, who were still 
sitting upon the wall. 

“How think ye, sons of Neptune; has not the 
great goddess been disgraced by what we have seen 
to-day? Is it not time that the strong arms of her 
votaries were raised in her defense?” 

‘ ‘ By Pluto ! ’ ' ejaculated one of the men. ‘ ‘ Strong 


2o8 


ONESIMUS 


arms are good enough, but they hurt not Christians 
gathered on the third floor of a military tower. Let 
Diana take care of herself, as I am compelled to do. 
By Hercules! she never gave me an oblos in my 
life. ’ * Thus saying, he slid down from his seat, and 
was soon lost in the crowd. 

“Men of Ephesus,” rang out a clear voice from 
the top of the stair. 

The people gave heed, for it was the renowned 
Paul who was addressing them. 

“Ye have witnessed the burning to-day of the 
books of enchantment by which in time past ye and 
their possessors have been deceived. But now the 
goodness and mercy of the great God have been 
revealed, not a God made by hands, as ye have 
thought ’ ' 

At this point a shout arose from the outskirts of 
the assembly, “Great is Diana of the Ephesians!” 
It was taken up by multitudes who pressed angrily 
towards the stair, trampling on and scattering the 
smoldering embers of the fire. Paul perceived 
that further speech was useless, and beckoning to 
his associates he entered the chamber. 

The audience which gathered in the schoolroom 
of Tyrannus had outgrown their quarters, and the 
door was now opened into the room in the tower, 
over the gate, which was crowded with people. 
Altogether there must have been several hundred 
persons present. 

Paul took his stand at the door between the two 
rooms, and after singing and prayer, he said: “In 
the name of God let those who have renounced the 


THE WORD OF GOD 


209 


world and its lusts, who have been instructed in 
the Christian faith, and who desire admission into 
Christ’s Church, come forward. Several such 
responded, but our attention is attracted to a group 
of three, clad in flowing white robes, a symbol of 
Christian purity. They were Philemon, Apphia 
and Menodora. Very fair was she, as the excite- 
ment of the occasion blanched her rosy cheeks, and 
the short curls hung in pretty ringlets around her 
graceful head. Already nature was restoring to 
her the gift she gave Diana. Archippus gazed 
through tears at the group; but the vision of his 
betrothed was all that Nymphas ^could see. It 
seemed to him that heaven was opened, and one of 
its brightest residents was kneeling before the apos- 
tle. There were solemn questions asked, concern- 
ing the doctrine of sin and salvation, concerning the 
purpose of the candidates for their after life. The 
confession of faith was said, and the whole assembly 
arose and repeated the creed, the germ of our own 
creed, and in a truer sense than that of any later 
document, the Apostle’s Creed. Paul arose, and 
offered a fervent prayer of thanksgiving and suppli- 
cation for the new converts. He then led each, in 
turn, to a huge stone jar, from which Luke poured 
water upon their heads, saying, “I baptize thee in 
the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
Ghost. Amen. ’ ’ Paul gave the right hand of fel- 
lowship to each; made over each the sign of the 
cross, and the ceremony was complete. 

Epaphras remarked to Archippus as they took 
their seats, preparatory to partaking of the Lord’s 


210 


ONESIMUS 


Supper, “I would give my right hand if I could see 
my parents do as yours have done to-day. ' ’ 

“Be of good cheer, brother Epaphras,” answered 
Archippus, “for God is able to make all grace 
abound to them also. ’ ’ 

Nymphas took his place, opposite Menodora. It 
was all a wonderful dream, too good to be true. 
For Christ’s sake he had plucked his love from his 
heart, and Christ had accepted the sacrifice and 
returned to him the offering. Thus, when Abraham 
had proved his faith, the blessing came, and Isaac 
was restored. To Nymphas, the words, which 
he had heard Luke repeat so often, seemed literally 
true: “There is no man who has left house, or 
brother, or sister, or wife, or children, for my sake, 
but shall receive manifold more in this present life 
and in the world to come life everlasting. ’ ’ 

A hymn had been sung, another prayer offered, 
and the bread and wine were passed to each in 
silence; but as each received, he repeated the 
words — “I present my body, a living sacrifice, to 
him who was delivered for my offenses and raised 
again for my justification.” 

After the Supper was completed, Paul spoke. 
He talked as a father might address his children. 
Every word bore the stamp of sincerity and glowed 
with love. He compared their former state, when 
they were dead in trespasses and sins, when they 
walked according to the course of this world, fulfill- 
ing the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and 
were by nature children of wrath, with their present 
condition, raised up and made to sit in heavenly 


THE WORD OF GOD 


2II 


places with Christ. He spoke of the great future of 
the kingdom of God, on earth and in heaven, and 
of their glorious share in it. 

He referred to those of their number who had 
fallen asleep; to Manes, whose sudden death had 
shocked them all. He explained that the great 
difference between their present and their former 
state was the work of God, who is rich in mercy for 
his g^eat love wherewith he hath loved us. He 
dwelt upon the life of the Lord Jesus Christ, and its 
consummation in his passion ; and then he explained 
the duty which they owed to him who had given 
himself for them. 

At this point in his address the apostle began to 
particularize. He addressed the masters and the 
slaves in the assembly, speaking to each, of their 
duties. “Remember,” he said, O masters, that ye 
also have a Master in heaven, and there is no 
respect of persons with him. Forbear threatening ; 
and seek to obey, towards your slaves, the com- 
mand of the Lord. ‘As ye would that men should 
do to you, do ye even so to them, ’ for we are all 
brethren in Christ Jesus. And ye, O servants, care 
not for your bonds ; for he that is called, being a 
servant, is the Lord’s freedman. With good will do 
your work, not with eye service as men pleasers, 
but as the servants of Christ, knowing that whatso- 
ever a man does, the same shall he receive of the 
Lord, whether he be bond or free. 

The merchant and man of business were advised 
of their share in Christ’s work. Husbands, wives 
and children received instruction. Nymphas 


212 


ONESIMUS 


thought that while to love one’s wife, even as Christ 
loved the Church, might be a high ideal, it was not 
impossible, as he beheld the tear-stained face of 
Menodora, turned in wonder and attention towards 
the apostle. If he could have read her thoughts, he 
would have perceived that her vision of Christ, 
somehow, took the form of himself, while she 
quietly murmured, “He loves me even as Christ the 
Church. ’ ’ 

Paul had spoken long, and the dusk of evening 
had filled the chamber with shade. The one light, 
placed upon the desk, filled the room with strange 
shadows. 

The apostle paused for a moment and then con- 
tinued: “Brethren, I have remained with you for 
the space of two years, teaching the Word of God 
among you. Ye yourselves know that I have cov- 
eted no man’s silver or gold or apparel. Yea, these 
hands have ministered to my necessities and to 
them who were with me. Publicly, and from house 
to house, I have not ceased to preach repentance 
towards God and faith towards our Lord Jesus 
Christ. The Church of God is founded in your 
midst, and I am called to preach, not where Christ 
is named. ‘Far hence unto the Gentiles’ — was the 
command to me, when He made me an apostle. I 
must therefore bid you farewell. Timothy and 
Erastus have already departed into Macedonia, and 
by God’s grace I hope to follow them. Thence I 
shall journey into Judea to take alms to my nation 
and an offering. After I have been there, I must 
also see Rome.” 


THE WORD OF GOD 


213 


Sobs filled the room at these words, and the elders 
grasped his hands, in pledge of faithful care for the 
flock over which the Holy Ghost had made them 
overseers. 

When the assembly had dispersed and the silent 
stars looked down on empty streets, Archippus and 
Nymphas attended Philemon and his family to their 
lodgings. On their return they passed the shop of 
the coppersmith. The blind was closed, but a light 
shone within. 

“Alexander must be keeping late hours,” said 
Nymphas; “he is no friend to us Christians, and I 
fear he plots some mishcief . ’ ’ 

“What can a man, such as he, do of good or ill to 
so glorious a cause,” replied the less experienced 
Archippus. 

If they could have lifted the shutter and gazed 
within they would have beheld the coppersmith in 
savage mood. Drafts of exchange and itemized 
bills were scattered over the counter, while his 
mantle, hastily thrown off, had slidden to the floor. 
He had somewhat calmed himself by writing, and 
at present was calculating upon a waxen tablet laid 
upon his desk. Between his teeth he muttered the 
names and amount of the sums before him. 

“Three copies of the Ephesian letters, written on 
vellum and adorned with gilt, at five hundred 
drachmae a copy, that is fifteen hundred drachmae. 
The works of Euclous of Cyprus in twenty rolls, a 
very rare work, and worth, I am informed, ten 
thousand drachmae. By the beard of Aaron, that 
smooth-faced student must have money to burn, to 


214 


ONESIMUS 


throw into the fire books like those ! His conscience 
would not let him sell them. Ah! ah! Our law 
forbids the practice of magic also, but I could have 
easily satisfied my scruples and made a good bargain 
besides. Then there was the pile of rolls that the 
old witch mother cast into the fire. She has dabbled 
in the art for years and made money like water I 
warrant. The East and West have been her teach- 
ers, and those books were of priceless value, the 
collection of a lifetime. Ten thousand drachmae 
would hardly cover their worth. Then there were 
the works of Antichares and Musaeus, preserved in 
cases. Holy Father Abraham ! I am told there is 
not another set of these works complete in all Asia, 
and they were ancient too, transcribed in Alexandria 
during the hundred and fifty-second Olympiad, as 
was recorded on the cover. The gold alone wrought 
on the cases was worth a thousand drachmae. Fif- 
teen thousand drachmae was their value at least ; all, 
all consumed in smoke.” 

Here Alexander snatched his scantyTocks in his 
thin fingers and glared at the tablet before him. 

“Let me see how much were all these worth, 
fifteen hundred drachmae, thirty-five thousand 
drachmae, that makes thirty-six thousand five hun- 
dred drachmae, utterly wasted through the influence 
of that accursed Paul. He seems not to know the 
difEerence between an oblos and a talent. Then 
there were other books, chapters of Ephesian letters, 
books on omens and dreams, and formulas for rais- 
ing demons. They were all worth good money, 
every one of them. Yes, I forgot, there were 


THE WORD OF GOD 


215 


copies of the Sibylline books. Alas ! fifty thousand 
drachmie would hardly cover the cost. Alas ! alas ! 
all burnt and wasted, and Diana’s images unsold on 
our hands. Even the money for Jehovah, praised 
be his name, is hard to collect in the synagogue. 
Rabbi Isaac says I must increase my gifts.” 

At the thought, Alexander sprang to his feet and 
hastily paced the shop, still running his fingers 
through his hair. “This day is a day of rebuke and 
blasphemy, for the children are come to the birth 
and there is not strength to bring forth. — Who is 
there?” cried he, stopping suddenly as a loud knock 
was heard at the outer door. Alexander threw the 
door open and peered into the darkness. The tall 
figure of Demetrius, the silversmith, loomed large 
in the gloom as he entered the chamber. 

“Well, old Jew,” he remarked angrily, as soon 
as the door was closed behind him, “great success 
you have made of your attempt to trap the Christian 
dogs. ’ ’ 

Alexander muttered an unintelligible reply. 

Demetrius continued: “At first we thought it 
was a little matter which could best be killed by 
silence or ridicule. Then we began to be alarmed. 
I, when I discovered the reason of my decreasing 
business, and you, when Jewish apostates nearly 
disrupted your synagogue.” 

“Well, have we not done our best to oppose the 
heresy?” whined Alexander, “and still it grows.” 

“Still it grows!” yelled Demetrius; bringing his 
fist down upon the counter with such force that the 
coins in the drawer beneath danced at the blow. 


2i6 


ONESIMUS 


“Still it grows, and by Hercules! we must adopt 
more energetic measure to destroy it ! “ 

“What can we do?” answered Alexander. “You 
thought it sufficient to poison Paul, and that was 
attempted, but that fool slave, Onesimus, only suc- 
ceeded in killing another slave, and never touched 
the apostate.” 

“Onesimus is a worthless rascal,” replied Deme- 
trius, “false or inefficient or both; there is no more 
use of bothering with him. My plan is to raise a 
tumult among the people and boldly attack the 
Christians in their assembly. We could promise 
the plunder to the herd ; and we could pay a few of 
the more desperate ruffians to dispatch the leaders. 
There are always enough lewd fellows of the baser 
sort to gather a mob. ” 

Alexander glanced anxiously at the door to be 
sure it was fastened. The avaricious are ever 
timid. 

“Speak lower, my good Demetrius,” murmured 
he; “it seems that the very walls have ears now-a- 
days. Do you not think that is dangerous? The 
mob once excited might attack the honest Jews. 
My shop stands in an exposed place, and, alas! the 
multitudes have exaggerated ideas of my wealth. ’ ’ 
“Coward!” muttered Demetrius; “if you fear 
that your shop may be pillaged, deposit all your 
money in the temple vaults. ’ ’ 

“But,” persisted the other, “Ephesus is a free 
city and the Romans are ever jealous of such. If 
we should be called in question for the uproar we 
might lose our local autonomy, and then there 


THE WORD OF GOD 


217 


would be an increase of taxes. Besides, Paul is a 
Roman citizen; the number of the Christians is 
enormous ; and many high officials are favorable to 
them. Even the town clerk speaks well of them ; 
and Glaukos you know is a convert. Be not rash, 
O Demetrius,” moaned Alexander, clutching him 
by the sleeve. 

“Your mother must have been fed on water gruel 
before your birth,” sneered the silversmith. 
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained, say I. I am 
determined to adopt the open method. I shall call 
a meeting of all the crafts of Ephesus and even of 
the towns beyond. Then we shall make an impos- 
ing show of force. Under such auspices the mob 
can be organized into an army that need only strike 
once and then can disappear.” 

Alexander looked undecided, but replied, “What 
are we going to do about Onesimus?” 

“Bah,” answered Demetrius, “he is too small a 
fish for our net, do not trouble with him.” 

“But the five hundred denarii promised as reward 
for the assailant of the lady Apphia!” 

“Well, old Jew, if it will give you any pleasure to 
see him suffer, accuse him to the proconsul. It will 
be several days before our mass meeting can be 
assembled. Wait till then, for his arrest might 
cause complications. One week from to-day we 
shall be ready, and you may act your pleasure.” 

“I will wait,” answered Alexander. 

Demetrius shifted his weight from one foot to the 
other, glanced at the narrow seat and concluded to 
stand. 


2i8 


ONESIMUS 


“There is another matter,” he said, in a low tone, 
“a little matter of my own business, but its success 
will greatly trouble the Christians. ‘ ' 

His companion muttered approval. 

The silversmith continued, “Tell me, Alexander, 
have you yet in your possession the seal of Nym- 
phas of Colosse?” 

The Jew fumbled in his drawer and produced the 
seal. 

“Yes, that is it. A lamb under a pair of shears. 
The elder Nymphas made his fortune in the wool 
trade. May I have the use of this seal for a few 
days?” 

Alexander’s face assumed a virtuous expression 
as he replied, “My religion forbids me to allow it to 
pass from my hands. The uncircumcised might 
use it for wicked purposes. ’ ’ 

“Your religion forbids! Old hypocrite. Come, 
come, tell me how much you will take for it. ’ ’ 

“It cost me much time and labor. It is worth 
five drachmae. ’ ’ 

“I will give you two drachmae for it and not an 
oblos more.” 

“You are a hard man, Demetrius. If you will 
swear by Jehovah that it shall not be known, you 
may have it for two.” 

“By Jehovah, Pluto, or any god you please, I 
swear this will get you into no trouble. Here is 
your money. ’ ’ 

Alexander’s eyes gleamed as the coin fell into the 
drawer. Demetrius was turning away. 

“One moment more, my Demetrius,” said the 


THE WORD OF GOD 


219 


Jew, “If you are interested in such matters, I can 
show you the hand- writing of my lord Nymphas. “ 

The other turned toward the counter on which 
Alexander placed a piece of crumpled papyrus. 

“This is a letter which the impudent youth sent 
me demanding that I repair the roof of the cham- 
bers which he rents from me.“ 

Demetrius examined it carefully. 

“I will give you two more drachmae for it,” said 
he. 

“Say four and it’s yours.” 

“Here are three, old miser!” replied the silver- 
smith, throwing down the money and taking up the 
sheet. 

“Farewell, my good Demetrius. What would you 
do without me?” 

“Farewell, old Israelite 


CHAPTER XVI 

THE UPROAR IN THE THEATER 

The kingdom of heaven is that society, whose 
membership is learning to offer the petition of the 
Lord’s Prayer — “Thy will be done in earth as it is 
in heaven.’’ This is the dominion over which 
Christ rules ; the realm of peace and love. This is 
the great organ by which he works; the means of 
all true progress for humanity. 

Into this kingdom men enter by different ways. 
One man, in his search for good, finds the pearl of 
great price, sells all he has and buys it. So Paul, 
in his search for righteousness, made the discovery 
on that noonday near Damascus, and from that time 
those things which were gain to him before he 
counted to be loss for Christ. So the Asiarch Glau- 
kos, in his pursuit of soul-satisfaction concerning 
immortality, had found the pearl in Christ and he 
sold his old honor to obtain it. So Nymphas and 
Archippus had sought for pearls and the pearl of 
the kingdom had been found by them. For a time 
the question had been, whether it was the pearl of 
great price or not; to Nymphas whether it was 
worth more to him than Menodora; to Archippus 
^whether it was worth more to him than the path he 
had marked out for himself. Each at last had seen 
its value and bought it ; for to him who seeks the 
supreme good the kingdom is discovered as a pearl 
of great price. 


220 


THE UPROAR IN THE THEATER 221 


The kingdom is found in another way. One is 
digging over the field of daily life. He has tested 
life’s experiences and thinks he knows what he may 
expect. Has he not for many seasons raised crops 
in that field? but at last, to his great surprise, 
beneath the spade of his ordinary toil is found the 
kingdom like treasure hid in a field. Such had been 
the case with Philemon and Apphia. Life’s day 
was past noon with them, and it seemed that they 
knew, by experience of the past, what was to be 
expected in the future. They were not in search of 
anything, when the healing of their son suddenly 
led them to the appreciation of a force of which 
before they had known nothing. Sure of its value, 
but not aware of its nature, they had sought Chris- 
tian instruction. At last the beauty and power of 
the kingdom had burst upon them, and in the 
waters of baptism they had sold the field of their old 
life for the new field in which the treasure was hid. 

“Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt 
be saved and thy house, ’ ’ so had Paul said to the 
jailer of Philippi. Thus, in general, it is; for the 
salvation of the parents means the salvation of their 
children. Natural, indeed, was it for Menodora to 
follow her parents into the Church of Christ, and 
within she discovered, in his worship, the soul- 
satisfaction vainly sought at the shrine of Diana. 
Therefore, although by different methods, the 
father, mother, son and daughter had become disci- 
ples of Jesus, and heirs of the kingdom which God 
had promised to those who love him. 

“Oh, mother,” cried Menodora, looking up from 


224 


ONESIMUS 


Besides this, he knew that Archippus doubted of 
his right to hold slaves, and therefore he hoped for 
his freedom. If he could only leave Ephesus, with 
its dreadful memories, far behind, and begin anew 
as a free man in a strange place, he might yet be 
happy. Foolish Onesimus! his idea of freedom was 
to follow his own depraved tastes and to be in 
slavery to his appetites. The Christian teaching 
which he had heard still fell on the wayside, and the 
fowls of lust, passion and pride came and devoured 
it up. But this morning he was of more cheer- 
ful disposition, and he even hummed to himself 
scraps of a little love-song which Rachel had 
taught him in the days when he really believed she 
loved him. 

Suddenly at the corner of a side-street two figures 
appeared, the one that of a soldier with helmet on 
his head and a short sword by his side. In his 
left hand he carried a roll of heavy leathern strap, 
and beside him walked a round-shouldered, hooded 
figure, clad in a Jewish cloak. 

“There he is now,” cried the latter, pointing with 
bony finger toward Onesimus. 

Onesimus had not seen the men till he heard the 
voice, and before he had time to realize what it 
meant, the strap was thrown over his head and 
drawn tight around his neck. He fought and tried 
to scream, but a vigorous pull by the soldier made 
him gasp for breath. All struggle was useless, for 
to resist was to be strangled. 

“Are your sure this is the man?” said the soldier, 
turning toward Alexander. 


THE UPROAR IN THE THEATER 225 


“Yes,” chuckled he, “as sure as I am that I can 
prove his guilt. ’ ’ 

“Come along then,” muttered the other, striking 
Onesimus with the flat of his sword. 

“Where will you take me?” ejaculated the fright- 
ened slave. A jerk on the throat was the only 
answer and the three turned toward the forum and 
the courts of justice. 

“What noise is that?” exclaimed the soldier as 
they approached the theater; for a sound of shouts, 
yells and screams came from that direction. 

Alexander was about to answer when his compan- 
ion cried, “By all the gods! the forum is full of a 
furious mob. I must deliver the prisoner and rush 
to the guardhouse directly. My cohort may be 
called out to suppress it.” 

It was even so. From every side-street people 
poured into the forum. As soon as they entered, 
they were caught as dead leaves in the eddying 
pool, and whirled on whether they would or not. 
Slaves, tradesmen and well-to-do merchants were 
pushed and pulled amid that great mass of degraded 
humanity, which in every city appears in the time 
of commotion, disappearing as soon as the disturb- 
ance is under control. And yet the crowd was 
not altogether without organization, for scattered 
through it were desperate-looking men who were 
united in the cry, “To the theater, to the theater!” 

“Father Abraham!” exclaimed Alexander, “let 
us avoid it ! I fear my shop is sacked already. ’ ’ 

Hardly had he spoken when the multitude surged 
around him, and the three were carried by force 


226 


ONESIMUS 


towards the great stone structure at the south of the 
forum. An officer of the law and his prisoner are 
apt to receive slight consideration in such a gather- 
ing. In a moment the soldier’s sword was gone, 
sticks and stones fell on his helmet, and he was 
pressed angrily backward and forward. The mob 
instinctively perceived in the representative of gov- 
ernment an enemy. Shortly after, he gave a pull 
on the strap which bound Onesimus, and it slipped 
through his hand. Some one had cut it. 

Alexander fared little better. “Down with the 
Jew! Down with the Jew!” cried one and another 
near him ; pushing him from side to side, and tear- 
ing his hood from his mantle. He tried to seize his 
girdle, which was full of silver pieces, and hold it 
tightly in his hands. The crush was terrible. To 
save his chest from pressure he raised his arms. It 
was only for a moment, but when his hand sought 
his belt he gasped for breath and moaned, “It is 
gone; it is gone!’’ 

The crowd was now pouring into the theater 
through every door, and the seats and aisles were 
full. Still the multitude thronged in. Two men of 
Macedonia seemed an especial object of hatred to 
the leaders, for they dragged them forward as if 
for popular demonstration against them. The peo- 
ple were diverted, however, by the shouts which 
rang back and forth and echoed from wall to wall. 

“Down with the Christians! Death to all Jews! 
Ah, ah, worshipers of an ass! Down with the 
money-lenders and despisers of other nations! A 
curse on the circumcised!’’ 





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THE UPROAR IN THE THEATER 227 


For whatever purpose the gathering had been col- 
lected, evidently it was rapidly becoming an anti- 
Jewish meeting. 

“This will never do,” cried Rabbi Isaac to the 
disheveled Alexander. 

The two men had been pushed by the surging 
mass to the edge of the proscenium. There they 
clung to the platform for relief, as two shipwrecked 
sailors , tossed upon the shore by the raging sea, 
might cling to a rock. 

“We intended to make this a great gathering for 
the destruction of the apostates ; and lo, these igno- 
rant fellows confound our holy nation with the rene- 
gades. Speak to them, Alexander, and divert their 
anger toward the Christians. ’ ’ 

“Alexander will address us, Alexander will 
address us,” cried several Jews in the vicinity. 
Before he knew what was intended, he was lifted to 
the platform, and the cry had become a roar — 

“Alexander to speak! Down with the Christians! 
Peace to the good Jews!” 

Alexander, indeed, presented a sorry spectacle to 
the multitude as he stood upon the stage, facing the 
people. His hood, which had formed one piece 
with his mantle, was torn off and lost. His inner 
tunic, which was of white, was spotted with dirt 
and ripped in front. Hi leathern girdle, passed 
through loops in his mantle, was still about him, 
but it had been cut at the buckle and hung open 
where his purse had been. He was heated and per- 
spiring. Compelled by his co-religionists, he 
stretched out one long arm and began to attempt a 


228 


ONESIMUS 


speech, when a slave on one of the topmost benches 
shouted, “See the old circumcised despiser of the 
great Diana!” 

It was enough, for the spark had fallen on inflam- 
mable material. What cared the rabble for the 
distinction between Jews and Christians? Was not 
the great Diana the pride and glory of Ephesus, 
and did not the Jews refuse to do her honor? Some 
drunken youths who had forced their way into the 
seats reserved at festivals for the priestesses of the 
goddess, raised the shout, “Great is Diana of 
the Ephesians!” 

The word echoed from orchestra to outer wall. 
Soon Alexander slid down from his position to the 
place beside Rabbi Isaac, glad enough to escape 
observation. One great roar sounded and resounded 
through the theater while the words rang back from 
Coressus and Prion, “Great is Diana of the Ephe- 
sians ! Great is Diana of the Ephesians ! ’ ’ 

A mob is ever childish. Just as a growing boy, 
allowed to use his lungs, is restrained from greater 
mischief, so the multitude which might have been 
led to awful violence relieved its feeling by shout- 
ing. Therefore when the town-clerk entered by a 
rear door, and stood upon the stage with beckoning 
hand, the people became silent. He occupied a 
high position and was popular with the multitude. 

His words fell like oil upon the troubled waters as 
he said, “Ye men of Ephesus, what man is there of 
you who knoweth not how that the city of the 
Ephesians is a worshiper of the Great Diana, and of 
the image which fell down from Jupiter? Seeing 


THE UPROAR IN THE THEATER 229 


then that these things cannot be gainsaid, ye ought 
to be quiet and to do nothing rash. For ye have 
brought hither these men, who are neither robbers 
of temples nor yet blasphemers of our goddess. If, 
therefore, Demetrius and the craftsmen that are 
with him, have a matter against any man, the 
courts are open, and there are proconsuls ; let them 
accuse one another. But if ye seek anything about 
other matters, it shall be settled in the regular 
assembly. For we are in danger to be called in 
question concerning this day’s riot, there being no 
cause for it; and, as touching it, we shall not be 
able to give an account of this concourse.” 

“And when he had thus spoken he dismissed the 
assembly. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE HAWK AND THE DOVE 

However busy the days of the lover may be, he 
will always find time to visit his mistress. 

It seemed to Nymphas that his hours could hold 
no more. 

The pressing cares of his estate had compelled 
him to cease attendance at the school of Tyrannus. 

Vast herds of sheep were feeding on the Phrygian 
uplands, whose shepherds sent to their master 
accounts of the season’s shearings. Scores of work- 
men, at his looms in Laodicea, toiled day and night 
to make the tunics ordered for the Roman legions. 
In the harbor of Ephesus two ships swung at 
anchor, carrying his father’s pennant. They were 
loading cargoes of general merchandise for the dis- 
tant West. Rents were to be collected from many 
houses in Colosse and Laodicea. His agents in 
Athens and Corinth sent letters by every ship con- 
cerning the growth of his business in Greece. 

Nymphas sorely missed the faithful Manes. The 
mind of the old slave in his later years had become 
somewhat childish, so that it was his delight to per- 
form for his master the duties of an ordinary attend- 
ant. He had not, however, lost his comprehension 
of the details of the business to which he had 
devoted his prime. During many student days in 
Ephesus he had stood between his master and the 
230 


THE HAWK AND THE DOVE 


231 


vexations of wealth. Not till this shield was 
removed did the young noble realize how useful 
he had been. 

The agora and the money changers were often 
visited by Nymphas ; but in two other places of the 
city was his form familiar. At the assembly of the 
Christians was he to be found ; and in the lodgings 
of Onesiphorus where dwelt Menodora. 

Nymphas had just ended a satisfactory interview 
with one of his factors. His Ephesian affairs were 
nearly settled, and soon he could return to Laodicea. 
The life there would not be aimless, for it was to be 
devoted to the service of God. It would not be 
lonely, for Menodora was to brighten the stately 
halls with the light of her presence. 

“It is yet early,” mused the young man, glancing 
at the dial before the window. “I shall have time 
to visit Menodora before other duties press upon 
me.” 

As he entered the apartment the maiden was 
standing before a mirror of polished silver, arrang- 
ing her new embroidered mantle. , His heart 
bounded when he beheld tlje graceful form enfolded 
in the costly robe ; and the fair face looking toward 
him from the shining metal. 

‘ ‘ Menodora, my darling. ’ ’ 

The girl turned quickly to meet him, her face as 
rosy as her garment. 

“Oh, Nymphas, I was thinking of you just as you 
spoke. ’ ’ 

“What did you think, my Phrygian Lily?” 

“I looked at my own image, so small and insig- 


233 


ONESIMUS 


nificant, and that made me think how noble and 
manly you are. You should have lived in the days 
of Phidias, for he would have made you his model 
for a god. ’ ’ 

“But if I had lived then, I could not have known 
you, my dear;” drawing her to a seat by the 
window. 

“Yes, that is so. Is not God good to bring us 
together? I feel happy all the day long. ” 

“God is very good, indeed, my darling. I gave 
you up for Christ, and he gave me himself and you 
too.” 

“I think more of you, Nymphas dear, just because 
you were so brave. I understand now, but I could 
not then.” 

“My Menodora, my afEairs are such that I can 
soon return to Laodicea. Paul, as you know, starts 
in- a few days for Macedonia; and we wish him to 
marry us before he goes. Will you complete my 
joy to-morrow night?” 

The maiden’s eyes dropped as the blood mantled 
her cheek, but she replied, “Father is willing that it 
should be at any time, and” — in a whisper — “I am 
willing too, Nymphas.” 

“My Treasure! My Pearl!” exclaimed the youth, 
kissing her forehead. “I am the happiest man in 
Ephesus. I will go to see Paul immediately about 
it. Where will I find him?” 

“Probably he is in the shop of Aquila, the Jew,” 
replied Menodora. 

Aquila, and his wife Priscilla, were great travel- 
ers. We meet them first at Corinth, where they 


THE HAWK AND THE DOVE 


233 


stopped after their banishment from Rome. With 
them Paul crossed the -^Egean to Ephesus. At 
Ephesus they aided in the planting of the Church. 
From Ephesus they sent salutations to Corinth when 
the apostle wrote his first epistle to the Christians 
in that city. Still at Ephesus they were at the 
evening of Paul’s life; for from his Roman prison 
he sent greetings to “Priscilla and Aquila and the 
household of Onesiphorus.” Aquila had established 
himself as a tent-maker in an ordinary dwelling- 
house. The chambers on one side of the court had 
been made into a long room by the removal of the 
interior partitions. This provided ample accommo- 
dation for the cutting and piecing of the great rolls 
of hair-cloth from which the tents were made. There 
was space in the court for the erection of the com- 
pleted product of the art ; for every tent was tested 
before it was sold. On the other side were the 
living apartments of the pious Jew and his capable 
wife. A loft above furnished a home for the 
employees. These were mostly Jews whose con- 
fession of Christ had cost them their livelihood. 

As Nymphas entered, several of the workmen 
were spreading a piece of cloth upon the floor pre- 
paratory to cutting it. Paul and Priscilla were 
watching them. 

“You see, my son Nymphas,” remarked the 
apostle, looking up, “the word of the rabbis is 
true, ‘ He that teacheth his son a trade is as he who 
walls a vineyard. ’ I thank God that I am not com- 
pelled to eat any man’s bread for nought.” 

“Well it is,” replied the other, “that in strange 


234 


ONESIMUS 


and hostile cities you are so qualified. At first you 
thus labored at Ephesus. It would, however, have 
been a disgrace to men like Glaukos and myself, if 
we had permitted you so to continue. But time 
presses, and I desire to speak with you a few 
moments before I go on my way.” 

The two men withdrew to the entrance and 
engaged in low conversation. The result of their 
talk was satisfactory, to judge by their appearance, 
for Paul smiled and Nymphas seemed happy. 

At that moment entered the master of the shop, 
accompanied by Philemon, Archippus and Epaphras. 
When the door was closed Aquila said in a tone of 
suppressed excitement, “Priscilla, see that the rear 
door is double barred and the shutters fastened. ’ ’ 
When this was done, he continued, “There is a 
large mob gathered in the forum, raging against the 
Jews and Christians. They have seized Gains and 
Aristarchus. I fear it will go hard with them. ’ ’ 
“They have been my faithful companions in 
travel,” broke in Paul. “It would be an act of 
cowardice to forsake them at such a time. I must 
at once to the theater. ’ ’ 

“Not with our consent,” replied Nymphas, laying 
his hand upon the apostle’s shoulder. “It is against 
you that they are incensed. Your life is worth the 
lives of ten thousand such as we. ’ ’ 

The friends turned pale as a loud knocking was 
heard at the outer gate. 

“We are attacked,” whispered Epaphras. 

Aquila raised his voice and asked roughly, “Who 
is there?” 


THE HAWK AND THE DOVE 


235 


“Open the door at once,” came the reply, “It is 
I, Luke, the physician.” 

The bolt was hastily drawn and Luke entered. 

“What news?” was the question which assailed 
him on every side. 

“It seems,” he replied, panting for breath, 
“that Demetrius, the idol maker, assembled the 
craftsmen in his place of business early this morn- 
ing. He urged them to make a public attack on 
Paul.” 

“I knew he was very angry at me,” calmly 
remarked the apostle. 

“He succeeded in exciting their wrath. They 
led a mob against the schoolroom of Tyrannus, but 
found him not. Just then they came upon Gains 
and Aristarchus whom they seized.” 

“Alas!” cried Priscilla, “were they roughly 
handled?” 

‘ ‘ I cannot tell. With them as prisoners they rushed 
to the theater. ’ ’ 

“Why that way?” interrupted Paul; “I was not 
likely to be found there. ’ ’ 

“I think,” answered Luke, “that there were cer- 
tain leaders among them, who led them thither in 
order to harangue them and hold them together. 
Several bands are hunting for the apostle. ’ ’ 

Paul answered, “It is I whom they seek. I am 
determined to meet them alone. God will do with 
me what seems good to him. I must not endanger 
your lives by my presence. ’ ’ 

Just then there were voices heard in the street 
without and hurried steps. Luke looked through 


236 


ONESIMUS 


the lattice and beheld more than a dozen men with 
staves and swords. 

“They are looking for you,” whispered he. 

“I must to the theater,” urged the apostle, “both 
to free you from danger, to help my friends, and to 
preach the gospel.” Before the others could object, 
the door from the rear court opened, and Tychicus 
entered. Since Epaphras had been adopted by 
Glaukos, the slave had also been a member of that 
household. He quickly handed Paul a tablet, from 
which the latter read aloud. 

From Glaukos to Paul : — Knowing thy courage I fear that 
it will expose thee to the fury of the mob. Venture not into 
the theater. My litter is at thy disposal. My house is devoted 
to thy protection. Come at once. 

Paul looked up and asked, “Where is the litter?” 

‘ ‘ It stands guarded by slaves at the back door. ’ ’ 

“I will go to Glaukos if the brethren will follow 
me.” 

Philemon spoke, “Let some of the men accom- 
pany the litter for protection. Archippus, you and 
Epaphras go with him. I must return home to 
remain with my family during the tumult. 

“I will go with you,” said Nymphas, addressing 
Philemon. 

The street through which the two men passed 
was nearly deserted, and soon they stood within the 
chamber of Apphia. 

“lam glad you have come,” she said anxiously. 
“There has been a dreadful noise without. Where 
is Menodora?” 


THE HAWK AND THE DOVE 237 


“Where is Menodora?” exclaimed father and lover 
at once. “Is she not with you?” 

“Why,” cried Apphia, turning pale, “she accom- 
panied Nymphas in his litter.” 

“She went nowhere with me,” replied the aston- 
ished youth. The mother was ready to faint. She 
grasped the table to support herself, as she said, 
“What means this?” 

Nymphas seized the tablet. It was written in his 
own hand and sealed with his seal. He read : 

To my Menodora, Greeting: A matter of business calls 
me this beautiful morning beyond the Coressian gate. I have 
sent a hired litter for you to accompany me. I shall meet you 
by the great stadium. — Nymphas. 

“By all the gods!” screamed the young man, — he 
had forgotten that he was a Christian — “I never 
wrote that. ’ ’ 

Philemon’s face worked as he threw the tablet 
down. 

“Some villain has stolen the girl. Mark you. 
He said, ‘Hired litter,’ because he supposed she 
would recognize the one of Nymphas.” 

“Oh, my daughter! my daughter !” sobbed 
Apphia, burying her face in her hands. 

Nymphas drew his dagger, and with staring eyes 
darted toward the door. 

“Hold!” cried Philemon, fiercely, “where are 
you going?” 

“My darling! my darling! To save her!” 

“We must think first,” answered the father, 
detaining the young man with his hand. “Apphia, 
how long since Menodora left?” 


238 


ONESIMUS 


“It must be an hour,” came the sobbing reply. 

“There is time to rescue her,” said Philemon in 
a determined tone. “Nymphas, haste to Glaukos. 
Call out all his slaves. Send him at once to the 
proconsul, I will follow directly with my wife. I 
must give orders to the slaves here. ’ ’ 

Nymphas heard not the last words, for his feet 
were speeding toward the Asiarch’s palace. Never 
was a short half mile so long before. 

“Open the gate,” he thundered, in a voice that 
made the porter think the house was attacked. 

Paul and his companions had arrived shortly 
before. They were astonished to behold Nymphas, 
hatless, and with tunic loosened, rush into the hall. 
Their eyes read catastrophe in his face. The last 
hour seemed to have made him years older. 

“Menodora — stolen — carried away,” he gasped, 
flinging the tablet into Glaukos’ lap. 

Archippus seized the letter, while the lover told 
in short broken sentences his tale. 

“Ho, there, you slaves, Philo, Aretus, Chios! my 
litter instantly. To the proconsul. Arm every man 
in the house at once.” The frightened domestics 
had never heard their master speak so harshly. By 
the time that Apphia, moaning and hysterical, was 
led into the hall, the litter was at the door, and shin- 
ing steel glittered in every hand. 

At this crisis, even as on the sinking ship, Paul 
rose to the command. His marvelous quiet and 
self-control, which all knew was not the result of 
indifference, made him master. “God rules,” he 
said. “Menodora is of more value than many 


THE HAWK AND THE DOVE 


239 


sparrows; and yet not one of them falls to the 
ground without your Father’s will. Know ye of 
any man who might desire to steal the maiden?” 

“I always believed,” answered Philemon, “that 
the assault upon her last spring was premeditated. 
We know that now she is abducted by guile. ” 

“Yes,” groaned Nymphas, “some cursed knave 
has forged my hand and seal. Oh, Menodora! Men- 
odora ! my Treasure ! In the hands of some ruffian 
this minute!” 

“I will see the proconsul at once. Demand a 
band of soldiers and return here,” cried Glaukos 
springing into his litter. 

“The case is not desperate,” continued Paul, 
examining the forged seal. “Nymphas, who in 
Ephesus has access to your seal and writing?” 

Nymphas calmed himself to think. “Many men 
in the city could obtain my writing. I know of 
none who could forge my seal.” 

‘ ‘ This, ’ ’ said the apostle, scrutinizing the impres- 
sion, “is the work of some one skilled in the work- 
ing of metals. ’ ’ 

A light flashed over Nymphas’ haggard face. “It 
is Alexander the coppersmith,” he cried. “The 
cursed villain!” 

“Let’s to his shop,” exclaimed Archippus, spring- 
ing to his feet. 

“Hold a moment, brethren, it is well to act only 
according to a definite plan. I know Alexander to 
be a covetous and hard man, an enemy of the saints. 
I do not think he would steal a maiden of his own 
will. Perhaps he might aid another for money. 


240 


ONESIMUS 


Know ye any man in Ephesus who desires the 
damsel?” 

It was Apphia’s turn to recollect. With a shud- 
der she clasped her hands, saying, “Demetrius, the 
image-maker. Philemon, you remember that I told 
you how he gave the poor child a ring, and how 
improperly he acted in our apartment. ’ ’ 

“It is they, it is they; Alexander and Demetrius!” 
groaned Nymphas. “My precious dove in the 
hawk’s nest! We must go at once. ” 

A lowly-bowing slave opened the door to admit 
an armed man. His head was covered with a 
bronze helmet upon the crest of which waved a 
horse’s tail. He wore the beaver up. His body 
was clad in a leathern tunic which was strengthened 
at breast and back with plates of brass. Heavy 
boots incased his feet and legs. On his left side 
hung a short sword, suspended by a strap from the 
right shoulder. A shield hung on his back. He 
walked directly to Philemon, and saluting, said: 
“In obedience to orders I and ten of my century 
report for service to the noble Philemon of Colosse. ” 
“Where is Glaukos?” asked the latter. 

“He remained with the proconsul to arrange 
plans. Already every gate is guarded and a search 
is to be made of the ships in the harbor. ’ ’ 

“Go with us to the shop of Alexander, the cop- 
persmith,”’ cried Nymphas, springing forward. 

It was a tumultuous little company that thronged 
out of the banqueting hall. 

“I will pray for you,” said Paul, as they departed. 
“Right about, face! Forward, march!” 


THE HAWK AND THE DOVE 


241 


The squad of soldiery passed down the street 
with that harmony of motion, characteristic of 
Rome’s legions, whether in Britain or upon the 
banks of the Euphrates. 

The dignity of government could not, however, 
keep pace with the anxiety of love. Far ahead of 
the company were Nymphas and Archippus, as with 
drawn swords they burst into the shop of Alexander. 
The coppersmith had just escaped from the confu- 
sion of the theater. Hot and disheveled, he was 
bemoaning the loss of his girdle. “My staters! 
Oh, my staters! They were new, just received 
from — Father Abraham, what is this?” 

“Ah! you villain!” roared the half-crazed Nym- 
phas, seizing him by the shoulder, while cold steel 
flashed before his eyes; “What do you know of 
Menodora? Who stole her?” 

The Jew recoiled from the energy of the attack 
with such force that he fell backward over the 
counter. 

“Holy Abraham! Help! Murder!” 

“Where is Menodora? Where is Menodora?” 
thundered the young men crowding upon him. 

“By all the prophets! I know not. Ye are 
crazed, most noble Nymphas.” Alexander had by 
this time recognized his assailants. 

“By the beard of Aaron!” shivered the old man, 
huddling into the corner where the chest stood. 
Philemon, Epaphras and the soldiers were pressing 
into the shop. 

The centurion spoke, “By Pluto, old Jew, tell this 
honest citizen the truth about his daughter, or the 


242 


ONESIMUS 


lictors will scourge the leather from your yellow 
back.” 

Philemon then briefly told his story, and Nym- 
phas showed the tablet with the forged seal. A 
cold perspiration was standing in great drops on 
Alexander’s livid brow. 

“By Jehovah! brethren — peace to you — how 
should I — an honest man — the son of pious parents 
— how should I — know of such a crime?” 

Archippus had passed behind the counter. His 
eye fell on a seal lying in the half -opened drawer. 

“This is it, this is it,” he cried, holding it up. 

“It is my seal, you knave. How came you by it?” 
yelled Nymphas, leaping the counter to seize the 
abject coppersmith by the throat. “Villain! tell 
me where Menodora is.” 

“Hold back, young man,” gruffly exclaimed the 
centurion. “The evidence is against you, old 
Israelite. Soldiers, bind him.” 

Alexander sank on his chest, a soft mass of 
terror. 

“Peace — good officer. Oh protect me. Keep him 
away. I will tell all. The knave, Demetrius, was 
in my shop one day. A letter came from my worthy 
Nymphas. I was called into the wine-court for a 
moment. When I returned the rascal had used my 
tools to copy the seal.” 

Alexander’s teeth were chattering so that he 
could hardly continue. He paused. 

“Go on,” cried Nymphas, “we have no time to 
waste.” 

“I — I made him give it to me.” 


THE HAWK AND THE DOVE 


243 


“How did he come by my handwriting?” 

The beadlike eyes rolled from one to another. 

“He must have stolen it,” he gasped. 

“Perhaps he speaks the truth,” said Philemon. 
“We must follow this clew at once.” 

“Guard this old fool,” said the officer to one of 
his men, “so that he does not escape. Forward to 
the shop of Demetrius. ” The silversmith’s place of 
business was closed but a desperate-looking man 
was loitering in the corner. The soldiers were upon 
him before he had time to escape. 

“Ah! Demonax, ” cried the centurion ; “you back 
in Ephesus? By Hercules! Throw a line for one 
fish and catch another. The cross has waited you 
this long time. Bind him, soldiers.” The ruffian 
took his arrest philosophically. 

In a moment he said, “Give me twenty-four 
hours’ freedom and I will tell you where the girl ye 
seek is hidden.” 

“Tell us for your freedom!” sneered the officer, 
“hot pinchers will draw it from you.” 

“Oh!” exclaimed Nymphas in an agonized tone, 
“there is not a moment to waste. Here, my man, 
take this purse. Oh! give him his freedom if he 
will tell, most noble captain.” 

“Thank the youth for your whole hide, Demonax! 
I was not ordered to arrest you. Tell the truth and 
you may go. ’ ’ 

Demonax replied doggedly: “I was hired by 
Demetrius to carry off the damsel. We took her to 
the chambers of the priestesses in Diana’s grove. 
That is sanctuary. She was locked in the rearmost 


244 


ONESIMUS 


chamber. Demetrius has just returned from the 
theater, and has gone to see his lady love.” 

“I dare not take my men into the groves,” said 
the centurion to Philemon. “It would be sacri- 
lege.” 

“But go with us at any rate,” urged the anxious 
father. 

“The affair is interesting,” laughed the other. 
“I will see it through. Soldiers guard the prisoner 
until we know whether he speaks the truth. ’ ’ 

Already Archippus and Nymphas were running 
wildly along the Sacred Way of Diana. 

The gardens at the rear of the great temple were 
comparatively quiet. Art had trained nature into 
myriad forms of beauty. Amid the sparkling 
fountains and secluded groves were many marble 
chambers. These gleamed white through the dark 
foliage. They were erected for the use of the 
priestesses. “Every prospect was pleasing and 
only man was vile. ’ ’ The most remote of all these 
cottages was elegantly furnished. The chamber 
was without a window, but the light fell in many 
tints over the mosaic floor from a colored skylight. 
The walls were frescoed with the figures of men 
and women whose rosy flesh seemed almost to 
pulsate with life. Chairs, tables and couches were 
of richest workmanship. 

Upon the divan lay the form of a young girl, clad 
in a red mantle. Her face was buried in the cush- 
ions. Her golden hair hung in short ringlets about 
her graceful head. The luxury of her surroundings 
had not, however, brought her joy, for convulsive 


THE HAWK AND THE DOVE 


245 


shudders shook her frame. A tall, dark man 
entered the apartment, noiselessly locking the door 
behind him. He laid his hand upon the maiden’s 
shoulder. “Menodora, my dove, at last Venus has 
brought us together.” The girl sprang from him 
with a scream as if his hand were of flame. 

‘‘Let me go,” she moaned. ‘‘My father — Nym- 
phas — will give you anything you wish. Let me 

go* 

‘‘Nay, dove, you understand not the heart of your 
true lover. I desire not gold. For a year the fire 
has consumed me here” — pressing his hand to his 
heart. ‘‘You kindled it, and it burns for you.” 

The girl was gasping as if from suffocation. 

‘ ‘ Perhaps you have heard, ’ ’ continued Demetrius, 
“that I have wronged other maidens. But I intend 
no harm to you. By Diana! Jehovah! Jesus! 
whichever you hold most sacred, I swear it. I ask 
not gold. Nay, I shall give gold to your father. 
You shall be my queen. Spain and India shall be 
the servants of your desire. ’ ’ 

“Oh, Nymphas! Nymphas!” was the sobbing cry. 

“Nymphas will soon find another, my dove. I 
will heal his sorrow with a golden salve. You will 
soon forget him.” The long arm sought her waist. 

“Villain!” screamed Menodora, her eyes flashing 
fire. “You know not what true love is. I loathe 
you. I hate you. I despise you. I curse you. A 
bed with serpents and scorpions is better than your 
embrace. ’ ’ 

She had retreated to the furthest corner of the 


room. 


246 


ONESIMUS 


Demetrius’ brow lowered. “Take care, my lady, 
take care.’’ He was approaching her. “You are 
mine for the present at least. If you are trouble- 
some the Corinthian merchants will pay a good price 
for such as you. No one shall know it.’’ There 
were hurried steps without. A loud rapping at the 
door. “Menodora! Menodora! are you here?” 

The lover’s ear caught a faint response. 

“We have found her! We have found her!’’ 

The daggers of the young men cut great gashes 
in the costly cedar panels. 

“Both together! Push now!’’ 

The door curved in its casement but opened not. 
Epaphras had just arrived. 

“All together! Push now — hard!’’ 

Well was it that the shoulders had gained strength 
in the exercise of the gfymnasium. With the shriek 
of tearing wood the door sprang inward from its 
hinges and crashed upon the floor. Menodora 
swooned in Nymphas’ arms. Demetrius with drawn 
sword stood behind the table. 

“This grove is sanctuary,’’ he growled; “ye shall 
die for this sacrilege. ’ ’ 

“Kill him! kill him on the spot!’’ cried Nymphas 
to his companions. His own arms were too full for 
action. Doubtless Archippus and Epaphras were 
willing to obey the order, but their foe was a skilled 
swordsman, protected by chairs and table. Soon 
Philemon, the centurion, and a group of Diana’s 
priests appeared upon the scene. 

“Oh!’’ cried Demetrius from his retreat, “the 
worshipers of an ass are profaning the great Diana.’’ 


THE HAWK AND THE DOVE 247 

The priests held up their hands in holy horror. 

“Cease your fighting,” said the centurion, strik- 
ing the sword from Archippus’ hand. 

Nymphas gave Menodora to her father. 

“As there is justice in heaven I will have the 
blood of yonder wretch,” yelled he, springing 
toward Demetrius. 

“Protect me, worthy officer,” whined that per- 
sonage, as he saw the light in his opponent’s eye. 

The soldier planted himself before the lover. 

“Unarm,” he cried, as Nymphas, blinded by fury, 
attempted to pass him. 

“Now then” — throwing the sword which his 
skillful hand had seized into the corner — “settle 
this business right here. The damsel is un- 
harmed and ye Christians are worthy of death for 
sacrilege.” 

A priest came forward. “Oh, oh, young men, 
Christians are ye ; despisers of the goddess? This 
will make a pretty story to tell. Ye have given us 
great opportunity to destroy the sect. ’ ’ Philemon 
and Epaphras were recovering their self-possession. 
“Choose ye at once. Take a gift and oath from 
Demetrius to touch the damsel no more. Go your 
way and hold your tongues. 

“I will have no gift,” cried Nymphas, stamping 
on the floor. 

“Choose ye. By Diana! If ye bring this scandal 
upon us, the story of your profanation of this holy 
place will so excite the multitudes that the blood of 
all the Christians in Ephesus will not slake their 
thirst.” 


248 


ONESIMUS 


*‘It would be awful,” said Epaphras, ‘‘by our act 
to produce such a result. ’ ’ 

The centurion spoke again. “Worthy sirs, I 
blame you not for your wrath, but the priest’s word 
is true. The story of an attack by Christians, on 
the groves, would cause such a tumult that all the 
legions in Asia could not quell it. Take my advice 
and do as the priest says. ’ ’ 

“What is our sacrilege to his,” muttered Nym- 
phas, pointing at Demetrius. 

Philemon replied, “It would be a dreadful thing 
to cause slaughter among the brethren and injury 
to Christ’s cause, for the sake of our own revenge. 
If the cursed knave will swear never to come near 
the damsel again, we will not seek his punishment. ’ ’ 
“By the Styx, I swear it,” answered Demetrius in 
a relieved voice. 

“Archippus and Nymphas, do you support Meno- 
dora. Thanks for thy kindness, worthy officer. 
Hand me our swords. We will depart from this 
vile den at once.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


PARTING WAYS 

The house of Glaukos, the Asiarch, was one of 
the finest in Ephesus. It stood separate from its 
fellows upon a handsome lawn, which was enclosed 
by a stone wall. A portico, supported by black 
marble columns, and paved with glazed tiles led 
from the iron gate in the outer wall to the entrance. 
Near at hand was the porter’s chamber; while on 
the floor a large dog, wrought in Mosaic, seemed 
ready to bark a welcome to the guest. Within, the 
visitor found himself in a lofty hall, around which 
ran a row of pillars, reaching half way to the ceil- 
ing, and supporting a second story. From this, 
windows looked down into the hall below. Between 
these columns hung heavy scarlet curtains, sus- 
pended on rings from gilded rods. At the further 
end of this apartment, two flights of marble steps, 
one on either side, ascended to the chambers above. 
They curved toward each other, meeting at a cen- 
tral platform, whence passages led to the several 
rooms of this floor. Between and beneath these 
stairs a view was obtained of an open court beyond. 
There a fountain played and flowers bloomed. 

When one had satisfied his curiosity and admira- 
tion with gazing at the polished stone of the walls, 
the beauty of the tessellated pavement below, and 
the deep blue of the cedar roof above, he could pass 
into the inner court. This was open to the sky. 
249 


250 


ONESIMUS 


On the right was the banqueting hall, a large room 
superbly furnished. Its shining walls reflected the 
light of many a silver candle-stick and golden 
charger. On the left were the master’s private 
apartments, his bedroom, library, and bath. The 
women’s chambers were above. The rear wall was 
broken by three low, arched doors. These doubt- 
less led into the kitchen, the servants’ quarters, the 
stable, and the rooms for storage. 

In the dusk of the spring evening on the day after 
the uproar in the theater, many little groups of 
people were passing toward this palace. They were 
of various classes to judge by their appearance. 
Some wore the leathern tunic of slavery, and were 
stealing an hour from their night’s rest. Some 
were tradesmen, decked in the best that their scanty 
wardrobe could supply. Horny-handed laborers in 
coarse camel’s-hair jackets, with bare legs and 
leathern girdles, were passing in the same direction. 
All, however, were clean and neat in person. Men 
and women, Jews and Greeks, were approaching 
the great iron gate of the palace of Glaukos. The 
porter opened to them without a word. We are not 
unfamiliar with the members of one of the groups. 
They were Aquila and Priscilla, Gains and Aris- 
tarchus. Aquila was speaking. “God be thanked, 
my brethren, that ye escaped so easily from the 
mob yesterday. I feared you were to seal your 
testimony with your blood.’’ 

One of the others answered, “I thought so also 
when I perceived that we were surrounded. We 
were kicked and tossed about somewhat, but not 


PARTING WAYS 


251 

greatly injured. The mob was not in savage 
humor. I am persuaded that the greater part knew 
not why they were come together. There were 
leaders, however, in the crowd who were appointed 
to slay Paul. If they could have found him, they 
certainly would have shed his blood. ’ ’ 

“According to his promise, the Lord was his 
shield upon his right hand, ’ ’ murmured Priscilla. 

“Consider how little their wrath has accom- 
plished,” replied Aristarchus. “If this tumult had 
been raised a year ago, Paul would have been com- 
pelled to leave his work half done. He was to 
depart next week at latest, and this special meeting 
of farewell to-night will merely take the place of 
the assembly appointed for the Lord’s Day.” 

“His work is done in Ephesus,” remarked Aquila; 
“but we shall sorely miss him after his departure. 
None can tell what a tower of strength he is until 
he is removed. ’ ’ 

“It is exceedingly kind of Glaukos, ’ ’ said Gains, 
“to invite the Church to gather within his house. 
Many of the poor saints have never seen such a 
palace before. ’ ’ 

“It is the gospel that raises up the poor and 
brings down the rich,” answered Aquila, “I suppose 
Paul will give his farewell address and arrange for 
the continuance of the work. ’ ’ 

“We will see and hear something more unusual 
than that to-night,” was the quiet remark of his 
wife. 

“What is that?” 

“Nymphas and Menodora are to be married this 


ONESIMUS 


252 

evening in the presence of ns all,” replied she. 
“Poor girl, they had planned a wedding for to-day, 
but after that fiendish abduction yesterday, they 
feared she would be too much prostrated. I called 
on Apphia this noon. The whole family and Nym- 
phas are suffering from the shock of the outrage, 
but are filled with gratitude for the providential 
rescue. Menodora was much refreshed this morn- 
ing. She and Nymphas are so much in love, and 
so determined that Paul shall marry them, that they 
would not put it off a day longer. After all, the 
best cure for their pain is to be in each other’s 
company. ’ ’ 

“It was one of the most dastardly crimes ever 
committed in Ephesus,” answered Gains, clinching 
his fists. “To think that it must go unpunished 
because committed within the groves of Diana!” 

“God rules,” said Aquila; “he has said, ‘Ven- 
geance belongeth to me, I will repay, saith the 
Lord.’ ” 

Priscilla continued, “The family of Philemon are 
also distressed over the disappearance of their slave, 
Onesimus. Before the uproar, yesterday, Apphia 
sent him with a purse of money to the shop of 
Polemo, the merchant. During their anxiety for 
Menodora the fellow was not missed, but since he 
had not returned this* morning, they instituted a 
search for him. Inquiry at the merchant’s place of 
business revealed the fact that he had not reached 
his destination. So both slave and money are 
gone. ’ ’ 

“He was always dogged and perverse,” replied 


PARTING WAYS 


253 


her husband. “No doubt he has run away. But 
here we are at the gate. ’ ’ 

An hour later there were gathered in the ban- 
queting hall of the Asiarch, in which he had first 
confessed Christ, a large company. Paul reclined 
next to the host, and beyond him were arranged by 
the table, Epaphras, adopted son of Glaukos, Luke, 
Trophimus, Demas, Aquila, Philemon, Archippus, 
Nymphas, Gains and Aristarchus. Below the divan 
sat a number, perhaps two hundred, of the most 
faithful Christians in Ephesus. Among them we 
recognize Apphia, Menodora, Priscilla and Tychicus. 

A feeling of subdued thankfulness pervaded the 
company, for the uproar against Paul had come to 
nothing, and Menodora had been saved from ruin. 
The apostle was delivered from the mouth of the 
lion, and a lamb of the Good Shepherd had been 
saved from the teeth of the wolf. Tears were in 
many eyes as their faithful pastor commended them, 
with choked voice, to the grace of God on whom 
they had believed. The Lord’s Supper was cele- 
brated; and, afterward, Paul announced his plan of 
work for the seven Churches which were in Asia. 

“The galley lies in the harbor,” said he, “which 
by the grace of God shall bear me to Troas, whence 
I shall journey into Macedonia. Luke, the beloved 
physician and Trophimus shall accompany me. ’ ’ 

Then turning to Epaphras, he said, “Brother 
Epaphras, Tychicus is already the Lord’s freedman, 
and one of those who is a help unto me. May he 
make the journey into Macedonia and Greece as my 
helper?” 


254 


ONESIMUS 


Tychicus flushed at this compliment from the 
great apostle, and Epaphras bowed his head rever- 
ently as he replied, “Tychicus is no longer a slave 
but a brother beloved. When the Lord, through 
his apostle, calls him, how shall I say nay?” 

“And now, brethren,” continued Paul, “the 
churches of Asia are in need of faithful laborers, 
that as we are removed, the sons may take our 
places. The elders have decided to ordain Archip- 
pus, son of Philemon, and Epaphras, adopted son 
of Glaukos, to the gospel ministry. God has quali- 
fied them with intellectual power and the more 
glorious gifts of his Spirit. They are no longer 
novices, but full-grown men in the faith, having 
witnessed a good confession. ’ ’ 

“Amen, amen,” was the murmur through the 
assembly, as Archippus and Epaphras knelt before 
the group of elders, who surrounded Paul. The 
apostle prayed long and fervently while the hands 
of the Church rested upon their heads. 

Before this ceremony occurred, Nymphas had 
stepped down and taken his place beside his bride 
elect. Both were pale from suffering, but the light 
of love was in their eyes, as they gazed each into 
the face of the other. 

When the hush which followed the ordination 
prayer was broken, Nymphas arose, and leading 
Menodora before the apostle, he said, “You had 
promised, O Father, that to-night you would unite 
us in marriage. Yesterday I feared this happy hour 
was not to be ; but now we all thank God for his 
wonderful mercy. ’ ’ 


PARTING WAYS 


255 

The young man stood, erect and tall. Tears were 
in his eyes, but a smile of joy was upon his lip. 

Menodora was clad in a snow-white chiton, em- 
broidered with gold. Over it was draped a rich 
purple mantle. A golden fillet, studded with 
jewels, adorned her head. 

Her eyes sought the floor, and then the face of 
her lover; while the flush which had not been seen 
since yesterday stole again to her cheek. 

The heathen were accustomed to celebrate their 
weddings with coarse frolic and drunken mirth. 
To the Christian, marriage was almost a sacrament ; 
to be honored as a type of the mystical union 
between Christ and his Church. 

When the sober words and prayer were ended, 
and the kiss of congratulation bestowed, the bride- 
groom said, ‘ ‘ Brethren, it is customary for so happy 
and thankful a man as myself to give presents to 
his friends. As ye know, the events of the last two 
days have prevented me from obtaining gifts of 
silver or gold. But to the Church of Christ my wife 
and I pledge our residence at Laodicea. In our 
house the saints may assemble from week to week ; 
and from our home, thus blessed by their presence, 
God grant that many a stream may flow to make 
glad the city of our God. Epaphras of Colosse I 
desire as bishop, for I know and honor the man as 
a true servant of Christ. I pledge my wealth for 
his support while he labors there in the Lord.” 

A murmur of pleasure, and approval passed 
through the congregation, and then Philemon 
arose to speak. “What shall we render unto the 


256 


ONESIMUS 


Lord for the multitude of his mercies. He has 
brought my whole family to the knowledge of the 
truth. He has honored my son by appointing him 
to the ministry of the grace of God. He has given 
us this crowning mercy in the deliverance of yester- 
day. My wife and I are too old for active service ; 
but in commemoration of all his benfits, we give 
our house at Colosse for the use of the Church of 
Christ. There, God’s people may assemble from 
week to week, and, as my door shall ever swing 
inward for their entrance, so my purse shall ever 
open outward for their needs.” 

Paul smiled with serene joy as he answered, “In 
the days of your ignorance, you were not aware 
that my son in the faith, Timothy, preached the 
gospel in your streets, and that God gave him con- 
verts among your own slaves. Now I appoint 
another son of mine, both yours and mine, for he is 
my son in the faith and yours by nature, Archippus, 
to be bishop of Colosse.” 

“And so, after the uproar was ceased, Paul called 
to him the disciples and embraced them and 
departed to go into Macedonia. ’ ’ 

By dawn of the next day there was much stir upon 
the docks of Ephesus. A graceful galley lay at her 
moorings receiving the last few boxes and bales of 
merchandise directed to Troas, for that was her 
port of destination. She was long and low, with a 
grace of outline which proclaimed her intended 
rather for speed than capacity. Fifty openings 
along her shining side revealed the fact that her 
chief dependence was upon her oars. The neck 


PARTING WAYS 


257 


and head of a gigantic swan curved upward from 
the sharp prow high above the deck. Her stern was 
adorned with carving, and was brilliant with paint. 
One tall mast stood amidships from which was 
swung a mighty yard bearing a purple sail. 

A number of passengers were already on her 
deck, walking fore and aft, or lounging by the rail. 
A company of people were gathered on the dock 
evidently awaiting some one. The ship’s captain 
strode up and down the dock, and at last turned to 
them with the question, “The sun is high. It is 
time to start. Expect ye any more passengers?’’ 

As he spoke two large covered litters, borne by 
slaves, appeared. The curtains were lifted and four 
men stepped out. We recognize Paul, Tychicus, 
Trophimus and Luke. There were hurried words 
of farewell. The cable was cast off. At the signal 
from the master of the rowers, the oars fell into the 
water. There was a cheer from the people on the 
dock, answered by those on the vessel’s deck, as 
she moved out of the harbor into the canal toward 
the sea. 

Next to the berth where the galley lay, was a 
large Egyptian corn ship, which had arrived the 
day before, five days out from Alexandria. She was 
now delivering a small part of her cargo, directed 
to Ephesus, preparatory to resailing for Rome. 

Before dawn that morning the peasants, bringing 
in their produce from the north, saw, but hardly 
noticed, a dark figure steal from amidst the foliage 
of Diana’s Grove toward the Coressian gate of 
Ephesus. The gate was not yet open and the man 


258 


ONESIMUS 


skulked along the outer wall until he came to the 
basin of the harbor. He had on a new suit, such as 
was worn by freedmen ; his girdle was full of 
money, and he kept his face concealed in his hood, 
although the morning was warm. It was full day 
by the time he reached the dock, but he boldly 
crossed the pavement toward the galley. When he 
saw the group awaiting Paul, however, he halted 
with a start, turned quickly and concealed himself 
among the goods of a warehouse. From his retreat 
he watched every movement of the people on the 
dock until the galley sailed. When she was gone, 
and the last straggler had retired, he emerged from 
his hiding-place, and accosted the captain of the 
Egyptian corn ship, who was leaning over the bul- 
wark. 

“When does your ship sail, O son of Neptune?” 

The captain eyed the stranger suspiciously, and 
for answer asked, “What business of yours is it? 
You look like a slave, seeking to run away from his 
master. ’ ’ 

The man colored, but answered boldly, “No slave 
am I, although I once was one. I am a freedman, 
able to pay my fare.” With this he drew from his 
girdle a purse and displayed the contents to the 
captain’s eye. 

Completely mollified by the sight of gold, the 
master answered, “We trust ourselves to Neptune’s 
favor as soon as we have unloaded a few bales of 
papyrus for the scribes of Ephesus. By the mercy 
of the gods, our passengers shall land at Ostium in 
less than three weeks. ’ ’ 


PARTING WAYS 


259 


“Here is your pay,” said Onesimus, putting the 
coins into the hardened palm. “Give me, if possi- 
ble, a private cabin for the voyage. ’ ’ 

“By the mother of the gods,” muttered the sailor 
as he led the traveler below, “he must be some rich 
knave who finds the climate of Ephesus too warm 
for him. He should be content to sleep on the soft 
side of a bench, with myself and a multitude of 
better men;” then turning, he remarked, “This, 
sir, is the cabin occupied by the noble Felix, when 
he came out in our poor company to his province in 
Syria. Since that time it has only been opened to 
worthy men. ’ ’ 

“It is well,” replied the other in a more lordly 
manner. “Even on the sea I must be lodged as a 
man. ’ ’ 

That evening the sun sank in purple and gold 
beneath the dark waves of the .^gean, and from 
the deck of the merchantman, the passenger looked 
back toward the isle of Samos, fast disappearing in 
the east ; looked forward toward the great west over 
the wildly tossing waters, and with a laugh which 
was almost a groan, he said, “I am free at last.” 


CHAPTER XIX 


EASTERN FILTH IN ROMAN SPRINGS 

“In Tiberim defluxit Orontes’ ’ — the Orontes flowed 
into the Tiber. So said the satirist Juvenal, refer- 
ring to the multitude of influences which poured 
from the Levant into Italy during the days of the 
Roman Empire. This figure of speech embodies a 
remarkable truth, for Rome, having conquered the 
East by force of arms, became in turn the captive 
of eastern luxury, thought and superstition. Rome, 
seated upon her seven hills, looked with covetous 
eyes towards the lands of the sunrise. Greece, 
Asia, Syria and Egypt, all were overrun by Roman 
legions, and made the subjects of Roman tyranny. 
But, alas for Rome! she was strong enough to 
gather their wealth, but not strong enough to keep 
out their poverty. 

The eastern world was indeeed poor. Her intel- 
lectual speculations during millenniums had resulted 
only in barren abstractions, that resembled the truth 
as the image resembles the deity. These were 
borne to Rome and became the play of the upper 
classes, who amused their fancy, or excused their 
sin, by means of the philosophies of Athens or the 
mysteries of Alexandria. The eastern world was 
indeed poor, for superstition and vice had grown in 
her fertile soil until more useful plants were well- 
nigh choked. And these were borne to Rome and 
260 


FILTH IN ROMAN SPRINGS 


261 


as they took root there the vigor of the ancient 
Republic gave place to the lazy debauchery of the 
Empire. The upright character of the fathers 
disappeared amid the vileness of the rabble. The 
conquering West was overrun by the conquered 
East. There appeared a vast army of adventurers 
in philosophy, religion, business and crime, from 
the Oriental prince, whose train brought moral and 
physical corruption with it as he bowed before the 
throne of the Caesars, to the Oriental juggler who 
recaptured by his tricks the money that Rome had 
extorted from his native province. 

Well said the poet, “Into the Tiber the Orontes 
flowed. ’ ’ And yet Antioch, the Beautiful, stood upon 
the banks of the Orontes, a place forever famous in 
the history of the Church ; for the disciples were 
called Christians first at Antioch. It was a place 
forever famous in the history of missions, for thence 
it was that Barnabas and Saul started on their jour- 
ney, recommended by the brethren to the grace of 
God for the work which they fulfilled. So, while 
the Orontes flowed into the Tiber, turgid with all 
the corruptions, moral, intellectual, and physical, of 
the East; she also bore upon her bosom the seeds 
of that Kingdom whch was destined to revolutionize 
the world. 

At the time of which we write both influences 
were increasing in strength. It was the late sum- 
mer of the year of our Lord 61, more than four 
years after Paul had left Ephesus ; and we find him 
a prisoner in Rome. 

It was late in the evening, but a crowd of people 


262 


ONESIMUS 


were lingering upon the Pons Janiculensis, the 
bridge over which passed the Via Aurelia. The 
crowded insulae or tenement houses of the trans- 
Tiber district were too sultry in August for comfort- 
able sleeping. The poverty - stricken multitudes 
gathered about the bridge, gasping for a breath of 
cool air which was wafted up the river. 

Over the bridge passed a woman, walking not 
aimlessly as the others moved, but with the energy, 
in spite of her years, of one who has to meet an 
appointment. She was old and hideous. Her thin 
white hair fell in coarse strings down her back. 
Her hooked nose and grinning toothless mouth gave 
her countenance a repulsive expression. Her face, 
of the color of ancient parchment, was not onl)’’ 
deeply furrowed by time, but by the lines of sin ; 
while her dark eyes, like beads, gleamed bright 
and small from amid a mass of wrinkles. She was 
clad in a coarse black mantle, wrapped about her 
shriveled form, leaving both arms bare. Upon her 
back hung a leathern bag, and a staff was in 
her hand. Her feet were bare, and callous by 
sixty years’ contact with the pavement. 

Moving with an energy not expected in one so 
time-worn, she threaded the dark and crooked 
streets, which occupied the plain at the base of 
Mount Janiculum, ascended the hill, and passed 
along the road into the country. The evening 
breeze had freshened and was driving the clouds in 
scudding banks across the sky. A faint light in the 
east showed where the moon would soon rise. 

The beldam left the highway and plunged into a 


FILTH IN ROMAN SPRINGS 263 


field full of broken stones and uneven mounds. 
Something loomed up beside her path, dark and 
large. It looked in the dim light like a short tree, 
with two projecting branches about eight feet from 
the ground. The old woman gazed at it atten- 
tively. At that moment the moon rose. A ray of 
light touched the top of the object and shimmered 
down to its foot. It was revealed in all its horror. 

Earth is the place for the dead. She is like a 
mother who hides from public scorn the disgrace 
of her children, and buries their disfigurement in 
her bosom. Nay, she even makes the corruption 
to become sweet and beautiful. The light is 
cruel to the dead. It brings out in all its manifold 
hideousness the face of death, and notes with the 
impartiality of a cold judge, all the shame of disso- 
lution. So the moonlight seemed out of place as it 
shone on the cross with its dark burden. 

The blood had long ceased to flow from the torn 
hands and feet of the dead man. The skin of the 
naked body was livid in the white light, livid with 
that peculiar tinge which marks the beginning of 
putrefaction. The head had fallen on the left arm, 
and wore an expression of diabolical amusement 
with its twisted mouth, from which the tongue 
protruded, and its staring, open eyes. 

The hag approached the cross and two lean dogs, 
which had been licking the feet of the crucified, ran 
away. Taking a hammer and short iron bar from 
her bag, she endeavored to draw the nails from the 
feet. It was hard work for her feeble arm, but at 
last they yielded and she dropped them on the 


264 


ONESIMUS 


ground. She then passed into the shadow behind 
and attempted to climb to the crosspiece above. 
This was about eight feet high and the task was 
difficult. But her naked feet and hands clung to 
the wood and soon her form appeared weird and 
spectral, astride the cross-tree and the arm of the 
dead. At last the nail in the right hand was pulled. 
The arm fell, and the body, suspended only by the 
left hand, slid forward, whirled around, and hung a 
moment. Then the nail tearing through the flesh, 
the corpse tumbled in a heap at the foot of the cross. 

The old woman’s hair and face gleamed white in 
the light. Raising her countenance with a look 
of horrid satisfaction, she dropped to the ground. 
Seizing the body by the feet she drew it for a short 
distance to straighten it, and then crouched like 
some wild beast beside its prey. 

Certainly our sympathy has been aroused at this 
uncanny spectacle. We have said to ourselves, 
“Poor woman, how dreadful that she has lived to 
see a dear one, perhaps a son, suffer such a death ! 
How dreadful that she has been compelled to come 
by night to steal his body from the hand of 
tyranny!” But as we gaze, the moon flashes upon 
the keen blade of a knife, drawn from her bag. 
“She will slay herself by the body of her son,” we 
murmur. 

Pressing her finger along the clammy naked side 
of the dead man, she first inserted the knife, and 
then plunged her hand like some ghoul, into the 
cavity of the abdomen. 

At that moment two dark skulking figures were 


FILTH IN ROMAN SPRINGS 


265 


seen creeping in the shadow of some piles of rock. 
There was a faint sound, “Hist! Hist!” The fiend 
started, drew her hand, dripping from its task, and 
replied with a low whistle. Two or three more 
calls, evidently prearranged, were exchanged, and 
the dark figures emerged from the shadow. 

They were men, their faces completely hidden in 
their cloaks. The woman had by this time drawn 
some of the internal organs from the body and 
placed them in a bottle which she took from her 
bag. She was wiping the knife upon the hair of 
the dead man. 

“What seek ye of me to-night?” she said in a low 
voice as the men came near. 

“We knew we would find you by the Putrid Pits 
when there was a fresh body on the cross,” 
answered one. 

“Yes,” replied the hag, “I must not lose oppor- 
tunities. The newly dead are not as easily obtained 
as they should be. But I have enough now, liver, 
kidneys and spleen. I shall burn them to-night, 
when I get home. The ashes will make a powerful 
love potion, for which the mistresses of the palace 
will pay well. Ah! ah!” she chuckled, “the liver 
of a dead man, properly prepared, will hold a fickle 
lover better than all the paint which Octavia uses to 
make herself beautiful in the eyes of her royal 
husband. ’ ’ 

“You make money, mother of the furies,” said 
one of the men. “We came here badly in need of 
it. We want to ask you to set us some new task, 
protected by your spells.” 


266 


ONESIMUS 


The woman arose from the earth and gazed at the 
moon in thought. As she stood there she seemed 
like nothing human, rather like some foul demon 
with its victim at its feet. 

“Yes, I know how you can make money," 
answered she slowly. 

“Then tell us, by Pluto," urged her companions, 
“for our purses have been empty these three 
days!" 

“The lady Julia has some fine new jewels. They 
were given her by the young lord Claudius who is 
enamored of her beauty. They would fetch a large 
sum in any market. She showed them to me when 
I attended her. Ah! ah! she was glad enough 
when the danger was passed. She wants no crying 
voice to drive away her lovers. ’ ’ 

“How can we get them?" asked the thief. “By 
Jupiter! I must have liqour, I have not a coin in 
my pocket. ’ ’ 

“The task would be dangerous without my help," 
answered the witch, “for each article is engraved. 
That fool Claudius thinks he will ever love one 
mistress, but he is young yet. Julia was sorry to 
read on each piece, ‘From Claudius to Julia.’ She 
knows more of such things than he, and it will 
injure their value. To-morrow I shall visit her 
again to sell some of this potion," tapping the bag 
in which the human organs had been placed. “I 
can get an impression of the key of the closet door. 
You can enter by the roof, having passed along 
from the court of Tithonius’ wine-shop. Julia rides 
out every morning with Claudius, and you will only 


FILTH IN ROMAN SPRINGS 267 


find one slave in charge. Kill him, or bribe him, 
whichever is most convenient. ’ ’ 

“We will kill him,“ muttered one of the men 
brutally, “dead men tell no tales.” 

“But how are we to cover our tracks,” inter- 
rupted the other. 

“Coward! Listen to me,” continued the hag. 
“I will show you the way. The jewels are engraved 
and therefore hard to sell and dangerous to keep. 
Know you that freedman Onesimus, who lives in a 
cellar of the house of Tertius in the Suburra?” 

“The man who sells cakes to the people along the 
Vicus Tuscus?” 

“The very same. He is unknown and friendless. 
We can bury the treasure in his oven. I shall dis- 
cover the thief to the fair Julia by means of my 
divining rod, having previously obtained the prom- 
ise of a good reward if successful. What will be 
the result? She,” said the witch, her toothless 
mouth opening with a horrid grin, “will recover 
her jewels. I shall gain a great reputation for my 
skill. We three will divide the reward, and Onesi- 
mus will bear the blame.” 

“By Pluto!” exclaimed the taller of the thieves, 
“when shall we undertake the robbery?” 

“To-morrow morning,” replied the hag, “I send 
out the children to beg along the Carinae and the 
Via Sacra. I shall walk that way to see how they 
do their work. The younger brats are ever care- 
less. Julia and Claudius ride out almost daily. 
Lurk ye by the temple of Castor, and when I 
whistle thrice, ye may know that they are gone. ’ ' 


268 


ONESIMUS 


“Good,” muttered the other, “but where shall we 
find the breakfast to give us strength for the task?” 

“Take this, spendthrift,” answered the woman, 
handing him a small coin which he eagerly seized. 

The two men then slouched away behind the crest 
of the hill. The old woman shouldered her bag and 
departed, muttering to herself. The moon shone 
high in the heaven and flooded the field with light. 
The empty cross stood white and bare amid the 
scene of desolation. The only living objects were 
two gaunt dogs which had run away when the 
woman appeared, but which now returned and 
growled and fought over a white thing at the foot 
of the cross. 

The events which have just been described 
occurred on the ninth day before the Kalends of 
September, A. D. 6i. It was on the seventh, in 
the afternoon, that is, two days later, that a man 
whom we have often seen before turned into the 
street which led between the Viminal and Quirinal 
hills. On this street Julius Caesar once resided, but 
a century of city changes had rendered the aristo- 
cratic Suburra a noisy place of ill repute, occupied 
by the lowest classes of the people. • 

Four years make a difference in the face and fig- 
ure of a young man, but we have no trouble in 
recognizing him whom last we beheld on the deck 
of the western bound corn ship, Onesimus, the 
runaway slave of Philemon. Freedom had not pro- 
duced the most happy results, if we might judge 
from his appearance. His clothes were poorer, his 
form less nourished than in the days when he waited 


FILTH IN ROMAN SPRINGS 269 

on Archippus in Ephesus. Neither had he found 
the joys of freedom as sweet as he had anticipated, 
to judge by his countenance, which was downcast 
and melancholy. He kept his eyes on the pave- 
ment, and doggedly pushed a two-wheeled cart 
before him, on which were some piles of broken 
cakes. At last he stood before the gate of a large 
and rambling structure. Filth clung to the stuccoed 
walls, while from numerous windows leaned women 
and children, gasping for a breath of the sultry air. 
Within the court the heat was suffocating, and the 
atmosphere was loaded with unpleasant odors. 
Half a dozen naked children were playing in a pool 
of filthy water in the center of the enclosure. 

Onesimus crossed to the further side and 
attempted to open a door which evidently led into 
the cellar. To his surprise the lock came off in his 
hand and the door pushed back. 

“Some cursed boy has broken it,” he muttered as 
he descended the stair. . 

It was but a few feet below the pavement, but 
the air was damp and chilly. The room was small, 
not over six feet by ten, lighted only by the door. 
The floor was of earth and the only furniture con- 
sisted of a bench, two stools and a large box. A 
pile of straw showed where the inmate slept. On 
one side was a small brick oven, and above it was a 
cupboard, containing a few cooking utensils and a 
bag of meal. 

Onesimus threw himself on the bench dejectedly, 
and buried his face in his hand. 

“Toil all day long,” he murmured, “and not 


270 


ONESIMUS 


enough cakes sold to pay for the meal I baked. 
Cakes one day old are too stale to sell, ’ ’ he added, 
looking at the dried fragments on his cart. 

Just then the figure of a large, coarse man 
appeared in the doorway. Onesimus looked up 
angrily. 

“I came for my money and I intend to have it,” 
growled a rough voice. “Your rent is two months 
behind now. ’ ’ 

“By Hercules! you will have to wait a little 
longer,” answered Onesimus, not rising from his 
seat. “I have hardly a copper to my name.” 

The landlord looked around the room as if to dis- 
cover some property which he might appropriate 
for debt, but failed to find it. 

“Come, pay me, or by all the gods, I will throw 
your carcass out of my house this very night!” 

“The night may be rainy and I am very tired; let 
me wait till morning,” urged Onesimus. “I prom- 
ise you to pay in full in a few days.” 

The other made no reply, for he espied the sack 
of meal in the cupboard. Having examined it, he 
coolly picked it up and turned toward the door. 
“Here!” cried Onesimus, springing to his feet, 
“that meal I must have to make cakes to sell, or I 
can never pay. ’ ’ 

Hardly had he finished the sentence when three 
men appeared at the entrance. One was a member 
of the city guard, and two were stalwart slaves, 
armed with stout sticks. A crowd of gaping chil- 
dren followed after. 

“Is this the lodging of Onesimus, the cake-seller?” 


FILTH IN ROMAN SPRINGS 


271 


“Yes,” replied the landlord, rather timidly, for 
he liked not the insignia of authority, “this is he. 
I have ordered him to leave my house, having just 
discovered him to be a thief and a rascal.” 

The officer’s hand fell heavily on Onesimus’ shoul- 
der, and in a moment he was bound. 

“Now then” — to the slaves — “search the oven.” 

The oven door was thrown open, and the ashes of 
the morning fire were still seen upon the floor. 

“The witch said to gather up the ashes, raise the 
bricks, and the lost jewels would be found,” said 
one of the slaves, as he scooped up the ashes in his 
hand. 

The bricks of the oven floor were removed, some 
earth taken out, and a strong metal box discovered. 

“Here it is, here it is!” cried both of the slaves 
excitedly. 

“The witch has learned at the school of Apollo, 
as sure as I am a guard of the city, ’ ’ said the officer, 
stooping to look at the box. 

“What is it?” said Onesimus, starting up to see. 

It was the first time he had spoken since he had 
sullenly submitted to arrest. 

“Perhaps he does not know what the box con- 
tains, ’ ’ said the soldier sarcastically as he turned the 
key. 

Within were disclosed a pair of golden bracelets, 
studded with precious stones, a heavy necklace of 
pearls with a gold plate in front, several golden pins 
and clasps also richly studded. He picked up the 
bracelet and read on it the words, “From Claudius 
to Julia.” 


272 


ONESIMUS 


“By Jupiter!” gasped Onesimus, “I never knew 
the box was there. It must have been hidden there 
in my absence. ’ ’ 

The officer closed the box and locked it. Taking 
it under his arm, he motioned to the slaves to 
follow him with the prisoner, and turned toward 
the door. 

“Sir,” cried Onesimus, shivering with astonish- 
ment and fear, “I swear by all the gods, I knew 
nothing of that box till you opened it.” 

“Stop your lying, and come along,” replied the 
other, as he regained the open court. 

“By Hercules!” ejaculated the landlord, as the 
group disappeared through the gate, “if I had 
known he was a thief I would have made him 
divide up or sweat for it. ” 


CHAPTER XX 


THE FREEDMAN TURNED SLAVE 

The day was near its close when the officer and 
his prisoner turned from the crowded Suburra into 
the forum, and were accosted by Claudius, who had 
been lounging in the Comitium. 

“So you have him,” he said, eagerly, as the 
group approached. 

“Did you find the jewels?” 

For answer the officer placed the casket in his 
hands. 

“By Hermes, the old witch must be the sibyl her- 
self. And this is the knave who stole them? Is he 
free or slave?” 

“He appears to be a free Greek,” answered one 
of the slaves. 

“I would have enjoyed the sport of the capture,” 
mused the effete Claudius, “but the day was so 
warm, and the herd in the Suburra so stinking. 
Gods! this very box smells from having been in 
their company! Guard, put him in prison for the 
night, and to-morrow I will appear against him. 
Follow me, slaves.” The young man turned 
away. 

Onesimus had allowed himself to be led thus far 
as if in a dream, but the mention of prison and trial 
brought him back to the present. Of his innocence 
he was sure, and yet he realized that the evidence 
273 


ONESIMUS 


274 

was against him. In vain he tried to think of some 
explanation of the finding of the casket, or of some 
method of escape. 

“What is your name?” a hard voice said. He 
glanced up to see a muscular man, clad like a 
butcher prepared for slaughter, glaring at him 
from behind a desk. He had followed his guard 
almost unconsciously up a flight of steps, the Scal/K 
Gemonise, and was in the jailer’s booth, before the 
door of that prison which later generations have 
named the Mamertine. 

“Onesimus,” he faltered. 

“Free or slave?’’ 

“Free,’’ answered Onesimus. 

“His accusers and accusation, guard?’’ said the 
officer. 

“The noble Gains Claudius accuses him of the 
theft of a case of jewels from his mistress Julia,’’ 
replied the soldier. 

The jailer wrote the answers on a numbered 
tablet, and clasped on Onesimus’ bound wrist an 
iron ring with the number XXVII cut upon it. 

“Take this,’’ said he, drawing a piece of barley 
bread from a pile of loaves beneath his desk. 

Onesimus seized it gladly, fgr he was very 
hungry, and fell rather than stepped through the 
iron gate into the yawning blackness of the prison. 
The door slammed behind him. It was very dark. 
When his eyes became accustomed to the shadow 
he found himself in a large room, perhaps twenty- 
five feet square, arched with stone. The little light 
and air of the apartment struggled through the 


THE FREEDMAN TURNED SLAVE 275 

roof. As soon as the jailer had disappeared he 
heard hoarse voices from the further side. 

“By Castor, a new bird, and a crumb in his beak 
too!" 

Three or four forms, emerging from the shadow, 
sprang toward him. They seized his bread, devour- 
ing it before he had time to resist. They were 
unkempt, shaggy forms; half naked, and more 
brutal than human. 

“Give him a ride, give him a ride!" was the cry 
as other figures approached. 

In vain Onesimus struggled, when a dozen pairs 
of filthy hands were clasped about him. He was 
soon entirely stripped, and tossed from one to the 
other, until he fell bruised and fainting on the floor. 

When he recovered himself one of his tormentors 
said to him, “Here is your tunic, my man. Now 
you have had your turn. When the next bird 
arrives you can have some fun with him." 

Onesimus crept away to the wall and huddled 
upon a heap of rotten straw. 

By this time it was entirely dark and the only 
signs of life in the prison were curses and groans. 
From beneath his feet he seemed to hear sighs and 
moans. It was the wail of the condemned in the 
lower prison. Feverish wakefulness sat upon his 
eyelids. He was glad indeed to see the first faint 
ray of light stream through the opening above, even 
though he supposed it was the dawning of his death 
day. 

“After all," throught he, “what matters it? Life 
is worse than death. A slave at Colosse, I longed 


276 


ONESIMUS 


for feedom. A night of freedom at Ephesus made 
me twice a slave, and I committed murder for fear 
of that cursed Jew. Four years of stolen liberty in 
Rome have brought me nothing but poverty, weari- 
ness, hunger and thirst. Death ! I might better die 
now; and yet, what is death? Is it as the Chris- 
tians used to say, or is it the end of all? I wish I 
were a Christian, as good old Manes was whom I 
poisoned. There are Christians also in Rome. But 
it is too late now. ' ’ 

At that moment the prison door was flung open 
and a glare of light streamed in. Two attendants 
entered, bearing a basket of bread and a bucket of 
water. The prisoners each ate his share, greedily, 
none interfering with the other, for the guards were 
present. Some chunks of bread were then thrown 
through the hole into the vault below, and the 
breakfast was over. 

After a time the jailer entered with several 
officers. In his hand he held a waxen tablet from 
which he read off numbers. 

“Fifteen!” 

The soldier found “Fifteen” by the iron ring on 
his wrist and marched him to one side. 

“Twenty - two. Twenty - three. Twenty - five, 
Twenty - six. Twenty - seven ! ’ ’ 

Onesimus came forward and delivered himself to 
be bound. 

“Where will they take us?” he asked of Twenty- 
six, who was next to him, and upon whom he recog- 
nized some of the garments he had lost the evening 
before. 


THE FREEDMAN TURNED SLAVE 277 


“The prefect and accusers are ready for our 
cases, ’ ’ replied the fellow. 

It was a sorry-looking company, bound together 
by a stout rope, that descended the stairs under the 
leadership of the jailer. Some were dressed in 
fantastic garb, and some were hardly dressed at all. 
Onesimus had only saved one garment, and that 
scarcely reached to his knees. 

Across the forum they passed toward the Basilica 
Julia. It was a long, marble structure, sur- 
rounded by columns which glittered in the morning 
light. Within were rows of pillars supporting the 
roof. There was a raised platform at one end with 
seats before it and upon it. Near the middle of the 
building a marble balustrade ran across, which 
divided the place of the court from the spectator’s 
division. The prefect sat in his easy chair upon the 
platform, chatting with two or three advocates. 
Soldiers walked back and forth through the aisles, 
and a group of accusers and court-officials were 
seated in front of the tribunal. A few spectators 
lounged in the rear, but the hall was not crowded 
as on the occasion of great trials. 

When the prisoners were arranged in their places, 
the jailer handed his tablets to the prefect, who 
glanced carelessly over them. 

“Number Fifteen, Quintius Larius,” said he, 
reading the first name. 

The guard made haste to unfasten No. XV from 
his fellows and to present him before the court. 

“Quintius Larius,” continued the judge, reading 
mechanically from the tablet, “accused of attack 


278 


ONESIMUS 


upon the noble Titus Marti us upon the Via Appia 
accused by the said Titus Martius. Is the accuser 
present?” raising his eyes. 

Titus Martius, his head bandaged from wounds, 
arose, assisted by two attendants. 

“Your story,” said the prefect. 

I It was a tedious tale of assault with intent to rob, 
and it was corroborated by his companions. When 
he had finished, the prefect turned to the prisoner, 
“What is your defense?” 

“Oh, my lord!” exclaimed the man trembling, 
“It is all a mistake. I did not attack the noble 
Titus. At the time named, I was drunk in the 
wine-shop of Tithonius. Send to him, my lord. 
He will swear that I was in his shop at that time. ” 

An officer dispatched to find the wine-seller soon 
returned to report that he was not at home, and 
could not be found. 

“Oh, most noble prefect,” begged the prisoner, 
“wait a little until he returns, for it cannot be 
long.” 

“Is your prison crowded?” said the judge, turning 
towards the jailer. “Can you accommodate this 
man a little longer?” 

“We are too full now,” replied that dignitary with 
a leer; “only last night two men died in the lower 
dungeon for lack of air. ’ * 

“Robbing has been very frequent of late,” mused 
the prefect, rubbing his nose with his stylus; it 
must have been some one who attacked Titus Mar- 
tius. We know of no other than Quintius Larius 
who did it; therefore he must be guilty. His death 



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THE FREEDMAN TURNED SLAVE 279 

will be a good example anyway. Guards, remove 
the person of Quintius Larius, prisoner; scourge 
him, carry him out to the Putrid Pits, and crucify 
him. Let it be done with speed.” 

‘‘But, O most merciful judge!” screamed the 
prisoner, falling on his knees, “have mercy, oh, 
have mercy! By all the gods, I swear I never 
attacked the noble Martins. Oh, have mercy, 

mercy! Most noble ” At this point a sack 

thrown over the prisoner’s head reduced his cries 
to an unintelligible wail as the soldiers dragged him 
away. 

“Number Twenty-seven, Onesimus, Greek,” said 
the prefect, looking at the tablet. 

Onesimus stood before the tribunal. 

“Onesimus is accused of entering the house of 
the Lady Julia, on the Via Labicana, stunning one 
of her slaves with a blow, and then of robbing the 
lady’s closet of jewels worth twenty-five sestertia. 
Are the accusers ready with their witnesses?” 

Claudius arose, supporting on his arm the fair 
Julia. Behind him stood two slaves and the former 
landlord of Onesimus. When questioned, in an 
unusually affable manner by the prefect, the lady, 
with many assumed blushes, told of her jewels, 
which had been given her by the noble Claudius. 

“Pardon me,” interrupted the prefect, “may I 
see the jewels?” 

An attendant handed the casket to him and he 
examined them with the eye of a connoiseur. Then 
he leaned back in his chair and said, “Proceed.” 

“On the morning of the seventh day before the 


28 o 


ONESIMUS 


Kalends of September,” continued Julia, ‘‘I rode 
along the Via Sacra with my Claudius. When I 
returned, my slaves met me at the door with the 
word that my apartments had been entered, my 
faithful servant knocked down, and my jewels 
stolen. It was even as they said. I found my 
property scattered about the room and my case of 
jewels gone. While distracted with grief for my 
loss, the witch Candidia was admitted. She brought 
me some powders which I had ordered. She was 
greatly distressed at the event, and suggested that 
she could discover the thief by enchantment. I 
offered her a rich reward and she fell into a trance. 
In that state she told me that the thief’s name was 
Onesimus, that he dwelt in a cellar belongfing to the 
lodging of one Tertius, in the Suburra. ‘Even 
now,’ she exclaimed in her vision, ‘I see the thief 
burying the jewels in the floor of his oven.’ So 
much she said. I informed my Claudius of her 
statements. He sent to investigate and the jewels 
were returned to me. ’ ’ 

Claudius guaranteed the truthfulness of his slaves 
as they told of the search and discovery. The land- 
lord was then called upon to testify. He was evi- 
dently confused and ill at ease in his position. 

‘‘If it please my lord,” he began, “I am an 
honest tradesman, who, by thrift, have obtained the 
lodging-house mentioned, in the Suburra, from 
which I derive a scanty profit. ’ ’ 

‘‘Tell not of yourself,” thundered the prefect. 
His affability toward the lady was changed to bru- 
tality toward the man. 


THE FREEDMAN TURNED SLAVE 281 


“Do you know the prisoner?” 

“Juno preserve me!” whined the witness, “I 
have that misfortune.” 

“Tell your story and be brief. ” 

“He came to my lodging-house about a year ago, 
and said he peddled cakes through the city. I 
knew nothing of the man, for it is my place to rent 
my rooms to whoever can pay, is it not, my lord 
judge? Well, as I was saying, I was becoming 
suspicious of his evil ways, and had gone to his 
room to order him away. A good servant of the 
emperor’s like myself cannot endure to have thieves 
upon his premises. Just then men arrived to 
search the oven, and made the discovery as they 
told you. ’ ’ 

The prefect then turned to Onesimus. “Wretch, 
hear what these witness against you? What is your 
reply?” 

A light had begun to dawn upon Onesimus’ 
confused mind, while the lady Julia was testifying. 
He now answered with energy. 

“It is all a conspiracy to fasten guilt on me. The 
hag Candidia was angry at me when I resisted her 
cruelty to one of the beggar-children whom she 
employs. She herself must have stolen the jewels 
and hidden them in my oven in order to cast sus- 
picion on me.” 

“Slander!” shrieked the lady Julia, in whom 
superstitious reverence was strong. 

The judge looked at the prisoner for a moment 
critically, and then said, “Enough, we do not need 
to hear your story further. ’ ’ 


282 


ONESIMUS 


Then arising, in order to display to better advan- 
tage the shades of his toga, he continued, “The 
crime is fur turn manifestum^ according to the best 
authorities ; for to be discovered in the possession of 
stolen property is held to be the same as to be dis- 
covered in the act of theft. For a freeman, as this 
rascal seems to be, the punishment is scourging, and 
the person of the thief is addictus to the accusers. 
Let it be so in this case.” 

The attendants immediately dragged the sullen, 
but unresisting Onesimus toward a low stone pillar 
situated a little to one side of the enclosure. The 
idlers on the sedes populi stood upon the benches to 
obtain a better view ; for nothing so delighted the 
Roman rabble as the sight of blood. Quickly his 
only garment was pulled from him, and he himself 
was thrown over the pillar with his hands tied to a 
ring in the floor. Not a sound escaped his lips 
when the lash began to fall, cutting the air with 
great hissing sounds as it rained upon his naked 
back. The spectators set up a shout of pleasure at 
the sight of the first drops of blood. The prefect 
stretched himself and walked across the platform, 
remarking to an advocate that he hoped it would be 
a pleasant day for the chariot-race to-morrow. 
Claudius leaned toward Julia, whispering something 
in her ear which seemed both to please and displease 
her, for she struck him laughingly with her fan. 
At last the prefect raised his hand and the blows 
ceased. Onesimus was lifted from the pillar, his 
garment cast about him, and he walked dizzily 
toward the nearest seat and sat down. 


THE FREEDMAN TURNED SLAVE 283 


“You may take the prisoner and withdraw,” said 
the judge to Claudius. 

The young man replied, “The fair Julia does not 
care for the thievish slave. She has been greatly 
inconvenienced by the necessity of appearance 
against him. Can he not be sold at once that she 
may receive some compensation for the trouble and 
grief he has caused her?” 

“Let it be as she wishes,” was the answer. Rais- 
ing his voice the prefect cried, “A slave for sale, 
about thirty years of age. Who will bid?” The 
mob surged around the naked form of Onesimus 
who was placed upon a bench for inspection. They 
pinched the muscles of his legs and arms; they 
examined his teeth and gloated over the wounds 
upon his back, but they offered no price, for them- 
selves were mostly penniless. At last a thick-set, 
broad-shouldered man, with a bald head, stepped 
up, and having carefully noted his points, said, “My 
lord Claudius, I have contracted to furnish one 
hundred gladiators for the coming exhibition. I 
will give you five sestertia for the fellow. He is the 
stuff to make a gladiator, for I noticed that he bore 
his beating without a groan.” 

“Agreed,” answered the young noble, and they 
passed in front of the recorder’s table to complete 
the purchase. 

The money was paid, the receipt and order of 
slavery from the prefect given in exchange. Onesi- 
mus still stood upon the bench. The stout man 
pushed his way through the crowd, threw the blood- 
stained mantle about the slave, and seized the short 


284 


ONESIMUS 


rope which was still fastened to his wrists. Claudius 
and his mistress had already departed. The voice 
of the prefect was heard again, “Number Twenty- 
two, Sextus Varius, accused of defacing the porti- 
coes of the house of the noble Metellus. ’ ’ 

“Come along, now/' said the stout man, jerking 
the rope by which he held Onesimus, “Step lively.” 
Onesimus was again a slave. 


CHAPTER XXI 


OLD FACES AMID NEW SCENES 

The phenomena of astronomy are universally 
present before the eyes of men, and their influence 
is universally impressed upon their hearts. Savages 
and wise men are controlled in their actions and 
habits by the ceaseless return of day and night, and 
the ever-recurring change of seasons. The child of 
nature and the philosopher stand together dumb 
beneath the glittering dome. “They are gods!” 
murmurs the one as he falls in worship before the 
host of heaven. “Two things fill me with awe,” 
says the other, “the starry heavens above my head, 
and the moral law within my heart.” 

Nothing seems more typical of gloom and death 
to the untutored mind, than the approach of hoary 
winter, with its ever lengthening night. Nothing 
seems more pregnant with promise than the 
approach of spring with its ever-lengthening day. 

The winter solstice has therefore been a time of 
joy and festivity among many peoples. The sun 
has sunk to his lowest place, and thence he begins 
to return with strength. From the ancient inhabi- 
tants of Latium, Rome derived the festival of the 
Saturnalia ; a feast in honor of the sun’s return. It 
was a period of license, of boisterous mirth and 
unrestrained hilarity. Therefore one should not be 
surprised to find the streets of Rome filled with a 
285 


286 


ONESIMUS 


noisy crowd of slaves and freedmen, as he elbowed 
his way from the Forum into the Vicus Tuscus on 
the eve of December 25th, A. D., 61. 

The light streamed from the windows and doors 
of many shops over the uneven pavement. A crowd 
of boys were paying homage to a mock king, who, 
seated on a small hand-cart, arrayed in an old red 
garment, and crowned with a peaked cap, was hold- 
ing court before the heavy portals of an ancient 
tenement. Two men approached the group and 
entered at the door. 

“The boys are having a good time to-night,” said 
one of the men as he paused for a moment on the 
threshold. 

“Yes,” replied the other with a sigh, “I wish they 
had a mind to celebrate this night becomingly. It 
is sixty-five years this evening since the shepherds 
heard the angels sing on the plains of Bethlehem.” 

‘ ‘ W ould that it were so, ” returned the other ; ’ ’ but, 
by God’s grace, your book, my Luke, will cause 
them to understand the story. ’ ’ 

Yes, it is they, Timothy and Luke, who last were 
seen a few years before in Ephesus. They closed 
the door behind them and ascended the stair. 

“I thought you would come this evening, ” said 
the great apostle of the Gentiles, as he raised his 
eyes from a roll of Isaiah which he had been 
reading. 

They were the same eyes that had watched by the 
cradle of the Ephesian Church, sometimes seeming 
to see far away, sometimes shining with a brilliant 
light, always kind and tender. He was an older 


OLD FACES AMID NEW SCENES 287 


man than when he embarked on the galley at 
Ephesus. But the pallor on his cheek, and the 
weariness of his movements, suggested not the pas- 
sage of four short 'years, but the passage of years 
full of anxiety, pain and suffering; the passage of 
years age-bearing, because the lover of freedom had 
learned in prison, not without effort, to be content 
in whatsoever state he was. Beside him sat a mus- 
cular man in a military cloak. As Paul laid aside 
his roll, the clink of iron revealed the fetter on the 
apostle’s wrist, attached by a short chain to the 
soldier’s belt. 

“I am sorry to have sad news for you.” 

‘‘Sad news?” said Timothy, starting; ‘‘has the 
enemy gained any advantage in your case?” 

‘‘It is not my case,” answered Paul, ‘‘but Epa- 
phras and Aristarchus have been arrested. ’ ’ 

‘‘Arrested? And for what, pray? Surely this 
must be some scheme of the prosecution, for it is 
not illegal to be a Christian. ’ ’ 

‘‘I am sorry to believe it is so,” replied Paul. “I 
murmur not that my Lord saw fit to deliver me into 
the hands of my enemies at Jerusalem, nor that, 
after two years of bondage at Caesarea, I was sent 
in chains to Rome, suffering shipwreck on the way. 
But, indeed, it fills my soul with grief that my faith- 
ful friends should suffer on my account.” 

“Can we do anything?” suggested Luke eagerly. 
“Let me go and see what can be done.” 

“I have sent Tychicus to our friend the centu- 
rion, Julius, to ask his aid. It seems they were 
arrested at the instigation of the High Priest, 


288 


ONESIMUS 


Ishmael. As you know, he recently arrived in 
Rome at the head of an embassy, charged, among 
other matters, with my prosecution. ’ ’ 

“They have made this move as a part of their 
scheme to entangle and ruin us all,” cried Tim- 
othy, hotly. 

“Speak not so, my son,” answered Paul, gently. 
“Even the Psalmist knew that the wrath of man 
shall praise God. Shall not we, who know that God 
spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us 
all, believe that with him he will also freely give us 
all things? Aristarchus and Epaphras are the called 
according to his purpose, and all things shall work 
together for their good. ” 

“I know it. Father,” answered Timothy, in a low 
voice. “I spoke rashly.” 

“Well, I will have to bid you fellows good-night,” 
interrupted the soldier, as heavy steps were heard 
upon the stair. “By Bacchus, I wish I took things 
as easily as you do, old man, ’ ’ continued he, unlock- 
ing the chain from his belt. “Pluto take me, if 
contentment is not better than money. ’ ’ 

“I am glad it is your turn on duty, Suilius,” said 
Paul, as the new guard clasped the fetter to his 
waist. “You are one of them whom I have begot- 
ten in my bonds. ’ ’ 

“Yes,” answered the soldier, meekly; “it was by 
God’s providence that I was assigned to you; for 
you have shown me the Christ.” 

“Have you heard of the arrest of our brethren, 
Aristarchus and Epaphras?” said Paul. 

“Yes, before I left the praetorium, Tychicus was 


OLD FACES AMID NEW SCENES 289 

there, looking for the centurion Julius, and he told 
me.” 

“You are acquainted with affairs. What is 
likely to be done?” asked the prisoner of his 
guard. 

‘ ‘ That is hard to say. If they had no friends they 
might die of neglect in prison; but Julius is their 
friend, and the noble Burrus will aid them. I hope 
they may be delivered. ’ ’ 

“Let us pray for them,” said Paul. 

The four men fell upon their knees. The light 
flickered upon its stand, casting gigantic shadows 
of the suppliants upon the wall. It revealed a room 
about twenty feet square, with low ceiling. On the 
one side, two windows looked out over the darkened 
city ; on the other, three doors led into inner cham- 
bers. The floor was of plank, rough hewn and 
uneven. A table, divan, and several chairs, consti- 
tuted the furniture of the apartment. Unpainted 
closets, nailed against the plastered wall, contained 
besides clothing and household utensils, many cases 
of rolls, the little library of the Church of Rome. 
The only article of adornment, if such it might be 
called, was a brazen cross fastened above the table. 
It was Paul’s own hired lodging. 

When the prayer had ceased and the men had 
taken their seats, Paul said: “My brethren, we must 
not be sad to-night of all nights. Even the heathen 
celebrate with joy the turning of the sun on its 
northern course, and shall not we rejoice on this 
anniversary of the rising of the Sun of Righteous- 
ness upon our world?” 


290 


ONESIMUS 


“Tell us of the birth of Jesus, Father,” urged the 
soldier. “I am so ignorant.” 

“Luke can tell you about that, or you can read it 
in his book, ’ ’ replied the apostle. 

Luke then repeated the story of the babe of Beth- 
lehem, the story which never grows old. When he 
had finished Paul remarked: “That was indeed the 
incarnation of God ; for though he was in the form 
of God, not thinking to be on an equality with God 
a thing to be grasped, yet he emptied himself, and 
made himself of no reputation, and took upon him 
the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness 
of men, and being found in fashion as a man, he 
humbled himself unto death, even the death of the 
cross. That was the greatest night the world has 
ever seen. Because God sent his Son in the likeness 
of sinful men ; to-night, in Syria, in Asia, in Greece 
and Italy, very many of the redeemed thank God for 
the grace that made Jesus poor that we might be 
made rich.” 

At that moment the door below was opened, and 
many feet were heard upon the threshold, while the 
sound of voices came to their ears. 

“The Lord must have sent his angel and opened 
the prison door as he did for Peter!” exclaimed Paul, 
rising to greet his guests. 

Time had laid its changing hand upon both Epa- 
phras and Tychicus. Four years had made a won- 
drous change in the son, by nature, of Theron ; the 
son by adoption, of the Asiarch, Glaukos. The 
thoughtful youth had become, through the ministry 
of suffering and the cares of office, a mighty man of 


OLD FACES AMID NEW SCENES 291 


God. Tychicus had also grown into a larger free- 
dom than that which [Epaphras had given him ; for 
it was the freedom of Christ. Aristarchus was not 
perceptibly changed. He had been a vigorous man 
in the day when he endured the buffetings of the 
Ephesian mob, and the strength of manhood was 
with him still. With them entered a soldier of 
commanding presence and noble mien. 

“Tell us why you were arrested, and how you 
obtained your freedom, ’ ’ continued the apostle. 

“We owe our freedom to the noble Julius, an- 
swered Epaphras, turning toward the soldier. “If 
his kindness had not assisted us we would at this 
moment be lying in a dungeon. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ He is always so kind, ’ ’ interrupted Luke. “Nei- 
ther Paul nor myself can ever forget his courtesy 
and assistance, throughout that long and perilous 
journey from Caesarea to Rome.” 

‘ ‘ If you express so much gratitude, ’ ’ replied the 
officer, confused, “you will make me afraid to do 
you a good turn in future. I have only done my 
duty by worthy men. ’ ’ 

“Sit down and listen to our story,” said Epaphras, 
helping himself to a chair. 

“Well, as you know, Ishmael, the High Priest, 
arrived in Rome recently at the head of an embassy 
to protest against the position of Agrippa’s palace 
in Jerusalem, which overlooks the temple. He is 
also charged with the prosecution of Paul. Even 
now he is intriguing against you with bribes and 
appeals to the superstition of Poppsea. But his 
chief legal grounds are found in the old law against 


292 


ONESIMUS 


the introduction of strange religions. That Paul 
may appear to be the leader of a numerous sect 
which holds this purpose, at his instigation, we were 
arrested this morning just as we concluded our 
preaching to the laborers on the Via Tiburtina. 
Tychicus, who had not spoken, was unmolested, and 
so he brought you word. ’ ’ 

“Yes,” answered Paul, “he appeared in my lodg- 
ings about noon, breathless and excited, hardly able 
to tell the news. I sent him to find the noble 
Julius. But what was done with you?” 

“We were cast into prison unheard, and remained 
there until Julius came to let us out. He can tell 
how he succeeded in doing it better than we can.” 

“It was easily done,” remarked the centurion 
modestly. “When Tychicus came to me, I had just 
returned from drill, and was about to go to the bath. 
I have not enjoyed that luxury as yet, you see,” 
glancing down at his dusty tunic and stained boots. 
“I immediately sought an interview with Burrus, 
the Praetorian Prefect, who, as you know, thinks 
highly of Paul. Through his influence our friends 
were happily delivered from prison, but not from 
custody. I gave security that they would remain in 
this house, fellow prisoners with Paul, and under 
the care of his guard. ” 

“Blessed be God!” exclaimed the apostle, “who 
always provides friends for us in time of need. The 
brethren might have died in prison but for your 
assistance. ’ ’ 

“Indeed, we owe you our lives,” said Epaphras 
softly. 


OLD FACES AMID NEW SCENES 293 


“Do not say that. I have not delivered you as 
yet,” answered Julius, “for ye are still prisoners. 
Undoubtedly your case will not be called until Paul’s 
is disposed of. If he is acquitted, yours will never 
be mentioned ; but if he is condemned, in the flush 
of victory the Jews will make it go hard with 
you. ’ ’ 

“We are in God’s hands,” answered the apostle, 
and although I am in a strait between two, having a 
desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far 
better; nevertheless, to abide is more needful for 
you. I believe that we all shall be delivered from 
the mouth of the lion. ” 

“You Christians are a peculiar people,” replied 
the officer thoughtfully. “When I was in Caesarea 
I knew an excellent centurion, named Cornelius, 
who was a Christian, and had been for years, con- 
verted by a vision or something of that sort, I 
believe. How he succeeded in being a Christian 
and soldier at once I cannot understand.” 

“It was by God’s grace, my Julius; and that is 
sufficient for thee also, ’ ’ said Paul. 

“Well, I almost wish I were a Christian,” replied 
the other seriously. “However, I must go now. 
If I can be of any service to you, do not hesitate to 
call upon me. My friends Aristarchus and Epa- 
phras must not forget their parole”— this playfully. 
“I know all Christians are descendants of Aristides 
the Just, therefore my caution is unnecessary. 
Good-night. ’ ’ 

“Well, Timothy,” said the apostle, when the 
sound of his feet grew faint upon the pavement 


294 


ONESIMUS 


without, “since Aristarchus and Epaphras are to be 
my fellow prisoners in Christ Jesus, some one must 
needs bring their possessions to my house. You, 
Luke and Tychicus can attend to that, however, in 
the morning. I trust your imprisonment may be 
short, my brethren, ’ ’ addressing his companions in 
bonds, “and that it may fall out rather to the fur- 
therance of the gospel, as mine has done. For my 
bonds are manifest in the palace and in all other 
places. ’ ’ 

“This is quite like the old times in Ephesus,” said 
Luke, as he glanced around the company. ‘ ‘ I wish 
Archippus, Nymphas, Glaukos and all the brethren 
with whom we wrought, in that happy time, were 
with us to-night.” 

“It is better that the salt of the earth be scattered 
over the world,” answered Paul, “although I greatly 
desire to see them, and trust through their prayers 
to be given to them again. I suppose Nymphas and 
the Church of Laodicea will be sad indeed when 
they hear that their pastor is a prisoner at Rome. ’ ’ 

“You can never imagine whom I saw to-day,” 
said Tychicus, looking at Epaphras. 

“Any one from home?” replied the latter. 

“No one else than the former slave of Archippus, 
Onesimus. ’ ’ 

“How strange! I knew he ran away about the 
time that Demetrius raised his uproar against Paul. 
Philemon tried to find him, for he had stolen from 
Apphia a large sum of money which was entrusted 
to him to pay for some of the articles needed for 
Menodora’s wedding. But he never heard a word 


OLD FACES AMID NEW SCENES 295 


from him, and we all supposed he was lost forever. 
Rome is the sink which sooner or later catches all 
dregs ; and it is no wonder that he has drifted here. 
Where did you see him?” 

“At the school of the gladiators, as I returned 
from my search for the centurion Julius.” 

“Alas, poor slave!” murmured Paul. “Has he 
come to that? How often I wondered at his obdu- 
racy against the gospel. When the faithful Manes 
died, and left so great impression upon all, I hoped 
he then would come to Christ. As the Master 
himself says, ‘Some seed falls by the wayside where 
the birds come and devour it up. ’ ” 

“Did he know you?” asked Timothy. 

“At first I could hardly believe my eyes, for he 
looked utterly broken and sick ; but I went up to 
him as he sat in the sun, and called him by name. 
He seemed frightened at seeing me, but soon told 
me that his life in Rome had been one prolonged 
agony. Last summer he was sold as a slave for 
theft and purchased by a lanista, who was training 
him to let him out to shows. I asked him how he 
liked it, and he was dumb with despair. Afterward 
he muttered that he did not care now, as a banquet 
was to be given by Tigellinus to-morrow at which 
he was to fight, and he was determined to be killed. ” 
“Poor fellow!” exclaimed Epaphras. “For 
Archippus’ sake, and for the sake of old times, we 
ought to save him.” 

“Yes,” answered Paul, “and for his own sake 
and for Christ's, Onesimus must be saved. He has 
many strong qualities, and, were he converted, he 


296 


ONESIMUS 


would make a splendid Christian and a useful serv- 
ant of the Lord. Can we not buy him?” 

“How much money can we raise?” asked Tim- 
othy. 

“I have nearly all of the two hundred denarii 
which you brought me from my friends in Asia, my 
Epaphras,” said the apostle. I can give it all, as I 
know that Epaphroditus is on his way from the 
Church at Philippi with a present for me. We must 
save him by all means. ’ ’ 

“I can spare one hundred denarii,” said Aris- 
tarchus. 

“And I five hundred,” said Epaphras. 

“Here is my last month’s pay,” remarked the 
gruff but kindly Suilius, as he fumbled at the belt to 
which Paul’s chain was attached, for his wallet. 

“We who are at liberty,” exclaimed the excited 
Timothy, “will go to free him to-morrow, and will 
bear our share of the expense. ’ ’ 

“Yes, it is well for us all to go who can,” an- 
swered Luke, “for in the multitude of counselors 
there lacketh not safety. Timothy and Tychicus, 
you come with me to my lodging, and we will be up 
betimes and ready for our deed of love. ’ ’ 

“We who remain shall make our chamber of 
imprisonment a little sanctuary,” said the apostle, 
as he raised his manacled hand in a good-night 
blessing. 


CHAPTER XXII 


THE DARKNESS. BEFORE THE DAWN 

It is not a pleasant task to trace the genealogy of 
despair, and yet it may be useful. Despair is the 
death of the soul, and, as such, is caused by sin ; for 
“sin when it is finished bringeth forth death.” 

Onesimus in his youth had mistaken the license to 
follow his own unrestrained inclination for the sub- 
stance of true liberty. So long as he had never 
beheld true liberty he was excusable for his error. 
Through many months at Ephesus he observed men 
and women attaining a glorious liberty by the union 
of their wills with the divine. But he turned from 
the sight to seek his own liberty in pursuit of per- 
sonal desire, and sinned ; for the essence of sin is to 
choose something less than the best. So rejecting 
true freedom he had gone on seeking his own false 
idea of freedom until, as a slave, rented for gladia- 
torial exhibitions, he had sunk to the lowest bond- 
age. And his soul, ever disappointed in his search, 
had sunk into the lethargy of despair. 

He was not, therefore, a turbulent and trouble- 
some slave like some of his companions. He ate 
and drank well as his master commanded, and went 
through the ceaseless drill of the gladiatorial school 
with a docility which was surprising. And yet when 
the contest with wooden swords waxed hot, Ones- 
imus joined the fray with an energy and skill which 
297 


298 


ONESIMUS 


boded ill for his opponent when the wood should be 
exchanged for steel. It was the energy of despair 
which courts death, but that his master could not 
know. Indeed, that worthy man, discovering that 
Onesimus was a good fighter, had changed his orig- 
inal purpose. He had intended to put him in with 
a company of one hundred whom he had contracted 
to furnish for an exhibition of butchery. But now 
he reserved him for longer training, intending to 
rent him out for private entertainments. 

Tigellinus had recently sent an order to furnish 
half a dozen gladiators to be matched against the 
same number of his own company. The exhibition 
was to be in private at his bath, and the contestants 
were to fight on a wager. A group of dissolute 
young nobles desired to know whether home-trained 
or school-trained gladiators possessed the more skill. 

And now the sun had risen over the ancient 
Apennines. Nocturnal Rome had slunk away to its 
dens and caverns of crime and filth, as some unclean 
reptile glides into the earth to conceal itself from 
the light of day. Rome, the city of the Caesars, the 
mistress of the world, was awake and astir. The 
slaves were cleaning up the debris of last night's 
debauch in many a marble palace of the aristocra ic 
Carinae ; the Via Sacra resounded with the roar of 
traffic; the cheating shop-keepers of the Vicus 
Tuscus were opening their stalls ; while the noisy 
Suburra was filled with companies of laborers going 
to their daily toil. 

Onesimus looked out of his cell upon the world, a 
world which had been cruel to him, and which he 


DARKNESS BEFORE THE DAWN 299 


expected to leave that day. It was a narrow cell 
with a barred window ; for the lanista took care that 
no member of his family should escape the sword of 
the arena. 

“Yes, I am resolved upon it,” he said to himself, 
as he munched the breakfast of bread and meat 
which a slave brought him. “I shall make a show 
of fight at first, and then yield myself to my oppo- 
nent’s sword. Ah! ah! this then is my last meal. 
I shall be free at last in the infernal world, unless” 
— gloomily — “Pluto’s prison is a reality; or it is as 
the Christians say. ’ ' 

A cold sweat started out upon his brow at the 
thought. He was young, and life itself was sweet 
to him. 

“Coward that I am!” he muttered, as the lanista 
opened his door and led him out into the court. 
The six gladiators were soon assembled. Stripped 
of all clothing and oiled from head to foot, they con- 
tended in practice for the last time. 

“Move quick, there, Markus. By Bacchus, not so 
high a thrust, Gaius; you expose your breast too 
much when you raise your arm. 

Onesimus showed unusual skill, and his master 
remarked, “Well done, Onesimus; you will come 
through the day with a whole skin, I will wager.” 

Then raising his voice he cried, “Hark ye, slaves, 
to every one who kills his opponent I will give a 
week’s carouse vrith wine and women in this court. 
But Pluto take the one who fails, for I will save no 
whipped cur of mine. 

While a guard bound the gladiators preparatory 


300 


ONESIMUS 


for departure, the voice of the lanista was heard at 
the gate. 

“No, I cannot sell him. I have engaged him to 
fight to-day, and I cannot put another in his 
place.” 

The voice of the questioner was heard again: 
‘ ‘ How much would you take to give up the fight and 
sell the slave?” 

“Fool,” replied the other, “do you not know it 
would ruin my reputation with Tigellinus, the ris- 
ing favorite with Nero? By all the gods, a talent of 
gold would not buy him before the contest. But if 
he is alive to-moiTOW morning, you can have him 
for ten sestertia. He is worth that much with his 
training.” 

“I fear we cannot pay it,” replied the other; “at 
least at present. ’ ’ 

“Then stand aside and hinder me not. By Pluto, 
the sun is already an hour high ; and the gladiators 
should rest a little after their march before they 
enter the arena. ’ ’ 

“If he is wounded will you sell him?” called the 
other, as the lanista entered the court. A muttered 
curse was the only reply. 

“We will await the result outside the baths,” 
came the call, as the gate was closed. 

Few apartments in Rome the luxurious could rival 
the banquet-hall at the bath of Tigellinus. The 
wall was one vast mirror of burnished sil'sjer, 
relieved from monotony by a procession of snowy 
nymphas who carried baskets of stony dainties in 
uplifted hands. From above cupids and psyches 


DARKNESS BEFORE THE DAWN 301 


reached down to grasp the fruit thus borne aloft. 
The floor of black, white and green stone cast back 
the light which fell in many hues from colored win- 
dows above. Soft curtains at either end concealed 
the doorways. 

Tigellinus and his favorite mistress reclined upon 
a divan spread with a cloth of gold beside an ivory 
table. At other tables were his begarlanded guests 
and their lady friends. Barefoot slaves moved 
noiselessly about the hall. 

Presently an ass, made of Corinthian brass, was 
drawn into the room. Over its back were suspended 
panniers containing white and black olives. Upon 
its saddle rested a silver charger filled with grapes 
and pomegranates. 

“By Venus, my lord,” remarked one lady to the 
host, “if Patronius were to see this fruit he would 
die of envy.” 

When this course was removed, four slaves, danc- 
ing to music, brought forward a large silver tray, 
upon which was a golden beehive. The diners 
applauded when this was lifted. A hare with wings, 
to represent Pegasus, occupied the center. Hens, 
ducks and peacocks were arranged around, while 
song-birds perched on sprigs of green were above 
them. Two kids and two goats, stationed at the 
corners, poured sauce over the whole. 

The smile occasioned by the grotesque spectacle 
soon died away, and the guests ate with the languid 
air of those whose highest joy is of the table, and 
whose palate is always surfeited. 

While the dinner was in progress slaves covered 


302 


ONESIMUS 


the floor at the lower end of the chamber with fine 
white sand. 

“Present your combat while we are at dessert/' 
whispered his mistress into the host’s ear. “The 
sight of blood will whet our appetites. ’ ’ 

The master waved his hand in token that the 
entertainment was to begin. 

And now the gladiators were drawn up on either 
side. They were entirely naked, unless a small 
shield worn on the left arm and a short sword could 
be called clothing. It was agreed that they should 
contend two by two, according to lot, and that the 
victors on one side should fight with the victors on 
the other in a general contest. 

The first battle fell to Gains and a negro gladiator 
belonging to Tigellinus. The two men entered the 
arena, and after bowing to the spectators began the 
combat. At first the negro stood his ground, and 
with lightning movements parried the thrusts of his 
antagonist. The beholders grew interested, and a 
volley of oaths and imprecations were launched at 
the gladiator because he failed to draw the negro 
into conflict. As they moved backward and forward 
across the sand, Tigellinus raised a cry of delight at 
the quality of their skill. 

“Venus be praised!” cried one of the ladies, as 
the sword of Gains, skillfully avoiding the extended 
shield, cut a long gash down the swarthy side of his 
opponent. 

“I am not much interested until the blood begins 
to flow,” languidly remarked the painted favorite of 
Tigellinus. 


DARKNESS BEFORE THE DAWN 303 


Just then the negro succeeded in laying open the 
left shoulder of the other, who, maddened with pain, 
sprang upon him with such force that his shield flew 
from his hand. There was a confused spectacle of 
bloody bodies and glittering swords. The negro lay 
upon the sand, while Gains, faint from loss of blood 
stood over him and held the steel to his throat, look- 
ing toward Tigellinus. 

“As she says,” said the host, motioning with his 
hand toward the lady beside him. She with 
clasped hands cried, “Oh, prick his neck so the 
blood spurts high! You can tell the strength of 
a man by the distance it will spurt. I have noticed 
it often.” 

It was but a moment, and the attendants dragged 
the dying form of the negro from the chamber. 
The conqueror was assisted into the inner room to 
be patched up for the final conflict. 

The turn of Onesimus came next, and of him his 
master had high hopes. If Gains, one of the least 
skilled of his gladiators, was successful, certainly 
Onesimus should be. He knew not that the slave 
was determined on death. So it was with amaze- 
ment, mingled with rage, that he saw him after a few 
feeble thrusts, fall upon the sand, bleeding from an 
ugly wound on his left thigh. 

“Hold!” he cried, as the unharmed victor was 
about to put the sword to his victim’s throat, “he is 
my property, and I do not want him killed. By 
Pluto, you must have bewitched him, for he was a 
skilled swordsman.” 

Amid a chorus of hisses Onesimus was borne and 


304 


ONESIMUS 


dragged into the chamber where already the negro’s 
body was stiffening with the rigor of death. 

“A pretty piece of business this!” cried the lan- 
ista, with an oath, spurning the bleeding form of 
Onesimus with his foot. “You did not put up half 
a fight.” 

“Oh, let me die; Oh, let me die!” cried the agon- 
ized slave. 

He had fully supposed that the moment when he 
felt the cold steel against his throat was his last. 
Now he realized that death had escaped him even 
as he sought it. 

“You worthless knave!” roared his master, his 
wrath increasing as he gazed upon him, “were it 
not that some light-brained fools are willing to pay 
me for your cowardly carcass, I would kill you 
myself this minute. ’ ’ 

Onesimus’ only reply was a groan. The other’s 
word seemed indistinct to his ear, and his angry face 
seemed to float far above him. He was fainting 
from loss of blood. 

“Go out and see if those fellows are anywhere 
about,” said the lanista to a slave. “By Hercules! 
if they are not in sight, I will take the coward home 
and roast him over a slow fire, as a warning to the 
other gladiators not to play the lamb when they fight 
on my wager. ’ ’ 

“They are here, my lord,” answered the trem- 
bling slave, as he ushered Luke, Timothy and Tychi- 
cus into the bloody chamber. 

Luke had prepared himself for such an emer- 
gency, and in a moment he was on his knee beside 


DARKNESS BEFORE THE DAWN 305 


the prostrate form of Onesimus, stanching the flow 
of blood and binding with expert hands the ugly 
gash. 

Timothy undertook to drive a bargain with the 
angry master. 

“How much will you take for him now?” 

“Ten sestertia, I said this morning, and for ten 
you can have him.” 

“It is too much. You said ten sestertia when he 
was sound and well, and now he is wounded and at 
the point of death. I will give you five.” 

“Five sestertia is as much as I paid for him, and, 
by Hercules, if he dies on my hands his carcass 
would not bring an as to feed the dogs. For five 
you can have him,” he added, after a pause, as his 
eye caught the gleam of the money which Tychicus 
was drawing from his belt. 

And so the sale was consummated, and Onesimus 
was once again among friends. 

From a human standpoint, avarice prevailed over 
anger, and his life was saved. From the divine 
standpoint, mercy had blended with justice, and 
another opportunity was given him. 

“I beg the pardon of my lords,” said the lanista, 
as he entered the court where the guests awaited his 
return, “but some fellows desired to purchase the 
cowardly dog, and I got as much as I gave for him. 

“Tychicus, run out and procure a covered litter 
as quickly as possible, ’ ’ said Luke, holding a flask 
to the lips of the reviving Onesimus. “We must 
take him at once to Paul’s lodgings. ” 


CHAPTER XXIII 


FREEDOM AT LAST 

The wound which Onesimus had received was 
severe but not fatal; and the loss of blood had 
rendered him very weak. As in a dream he felt 
himself lifted into the litter, as in a dream the noisy 
street glided past him. Still dreaming, he was 
borne into the lodging where Paul, the prisoner, 
with Epaphras and Aristarchus, his fellow captives, 
had arranged for his reception. Luke had sent a 
messenger ahead that they might be prepared. 

And so it came to pass that when the ugly gash 
was dressed, and Onesimus had settled down in a 
soft bed, he slept — slept at first the feverish sleep of 
utter exhaustion. As the day drew to its close his 
breathing became more regular, and the watchful 
eye of Luke perceived that he was doing well. Sev- 
eral times during the night Onesimus awoke, to find 
himself in a small alcove chamber through the door 
of which he looked into a larger room. The flaring 
lamp revealed the bent head and kneeling form of 
the apostle, absorbed in prayer, unmindful of the 
sleeping soldier beside him. Several times as a 
wave of supplication swelled up from the suppli- 
ant’s heart, Onesimus caught the words, “O God, 
grant that I may beget him in my bonds. Oh, my 
Master, bring Onesimus to thy feet.” And Onesi- 
mus knew that he was praying for him. 

306 


FREEDOM AT LAST 


307 


The patient fully expected that with the new day 
he would be accused of being a fugitive from the 
household in Colosse. His confused and fainting 
mind had dimly perceived that he had been pur- 
chased by Luke from the lanista, but for what pur- 
pose he had hardly attempted to surmise. Perhaps 
it was because Luke, the physician, knew that he 
could heal him, and was able to buy him cheap. 
More likely that he had acted under orders from 
Philemon, to recapture his slave if ever the oppor- 
tunity should arise. Onesimus had not entirely 
forgotten the strange kindness of the Ephesian 
Christians, but four years of poverty and brutality 
had obscured the memory in his mind. 

He was surprised, therefore, when Tychicus 
brought him the best breakfast he had tasted for 
many a day, and, shoving back the curtain that the 
bright winter sun might stream in, cheerily asked 
him how he felt. Luke also came to dress his 
wound. Epaphras, Aristarchus and the others bade 
him good-moming. It was all so wonderful and so 
different from his usual greeting. And it seemed 
so much like home, to behold the familiar faces, 
that the vision swam in tears before his eyes. Each 
of them acted as if glad to see an old friend, but not 
one of them said a word in regard to his sins or his 
past life. When evening came Onesimus listened 
to the voice of prayer and praise in the other room. 
It sounded strangely sweet, and he fancied himself 
in the schoolroom of Tyrannus, with Archippus, 
Nymphas, and all the associates of his former life, 
while faithful Manes sat by his side. The vision 


3o8 


ONESIMUS 


vanished, and Onesimus groaned and turned on his 
couch. 

In a moment Luke was at the door, asking, “Bro- 
ther Onesimus, is there anything you want?” 

“No,” replied Onesimus, in a choked voice. 
When had any one before called him brother? Not 
even the Christians in Ephesus had so designated 
him. Thus the time passed rapidly, and his wound 
was doing well. 

One day was very like another in the lodgings of 
Paul, and yet there was no monotony. The mem- 
bers of the little company were continually coming 
or going. With them came and went many people 
whom Onesimus had never seen before, but whom 
he soon came to know by sight and name. There 
were Mark, the cousin of Barnabas, Justus and 
Demas. These were strangers of the East. Among 
the Romans were Epenetus, the well-beloved ; 
Andronicus and Junia, whom Paul addressed as 
kinsmen; Amplias, the beloved in the Lord; and 
many more. 

Onesimus breathed the atmosphere of their pres- 
ence, and it seemed to him like the breath of 
heaven. He listened to their conversation, and 
could hardly realize that they belonged to the same 
race with the vile inhabitants of the Suburra, or the 
coarse members of the gladiator’s school. It began 
to seem to him that life, for them at least, was worth 
living. It puzzled him. Why was he not addressed 
either concerning religion or about his old life? Was 
it true that they had forgotten who he was? But 
that was impossible, for he heard Paul speak fre- 


FREEDOM AT LAST 


309 


quently of Philemon, Archippus, Nymphas, and the 
other brethren of the Asian coast. 

One day a traveler arrived from Philippi — Epa- 
phroditus, they called him. Onesimus had never 
seen him before; but Luke and Timothy greeted 
him as an old friend. He brought a present of 
money from the Philippian Church for the apostle, 
and a large budget of letters from the East. 

When they had been read, Paul entered the cham- 
ber of the convalescent and said, ‘ ‘ Onesimus, I have 
received word from home. Archippus has written 
to me about the state of the Church at Colosse. 
Philemon, Apphia, and all the saints are well. 
Nymphas and his wife, at Laodicea, have a little 
son ; whom they have named after me. They are 
anxious that Epaphras should return to the pastor- 
ate of their Church, for they do not yet know that 
he is my fellow prisoner. I thought you would like 
to hear from them. ” 

Onesimus was too confused to make an intelligible 
reply, but he stammered something concerning his 
joy at their health. 

On another occasion he heard Tychicus talking to 
a group of slaves in the court. The street happened 
to be quiet, and their conversation was wafted 
upward to the window. 

A voice said, “This Christ religion is good for 
freemen, but will it not be impossible for slaves like 
us to be Christians?” 

“No,” replied Tychicus, “I have known many 
Christians who were slaves. To be a Christian 
strikes the shackles from the heart, if not from the 


ONESIMUS 


310 

wrists. Christ came, as he himself said, to preach 
deliverance to the captives. One of the best Chris- 
tians I ever knew was an old slave, named Manes, 
at Ephesus. He was a true freedman of Christ, 
doing the will of God from the heart. He died 
mysteriously shortly before I left the city, and he is 
now in glory. ’ ’ 

Onesimus could listen no more. He bowed his 
head and wept great hot tears of shame and remorse. 
The bondage which he felt was the cankering fetter 
of sin on his soul. At last he knew that the worst 
slavery was of the heart, and not of the hand. 

Just then the voice of Tychicus, unheard for a 
time, came again to his ear. “Christ said, ‘Blessed 
are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of 
heaven.’ ’’ 

Onesimus buried his face in his hands and prayed 
— the first time for many a day — “O Christ, make 
me thy freedman.’’ 

Suilius was the most considerate of guards. His 
interpretation of the rules concerning his prisoner 
was always liberal. Therefore Paul had retired to 
his own chamber, while the officer was pacing back- 
ward and forward in the general room. 

“Suilius,’’ said Onesimus, in a faint voice, “do 
you know how wicked I am?’’ 

The soldier paused, and looking kindly toward the 
weeping penitent, said, “How wicked you are! I 
know all have sinned and come short of the glory of 
God. I too had a very heavy burden on me once, 
but it is gone now. I am glad you see your sins, 
for that is the first step toward salvation. ’ ’ 


FREEDOM AT LAST 


311 

“Oh! but do you know,” cried Onesimus, grasp- 
ing his tunic, “I am a thief, a liar, a murderer, and 
everything that is bad.” 

“Then you are just the man whom Jesus came to 
save, ’ ’ said the other, gently. 

“ But how is it, ” persisted Onesimus, “that Paul 
and all these good men can endure to have me in 
their company? They are spending their time and 
money on me, treating me like a king. I never did 
a good thing in my life, and I tried to poison Paul.” 

At this the slave burst into uncontrollable weep- 
ing and threw himself on his couch. The eyes of 
Suilius were grave and solemn, and he silently drew 
the curtain and departed. After some moments Paul 
entered, and sitting down by the bed, softly put his . 
hand upon the heaving shoulder of Onesimus. We 
must be as delicate as that camp-hardened soldier, 
for he drew the curtain of that chamber, where Paul 
heard the confession of many sins. The two were 
kneeling together before the throne of the divine 
mercy. 

It was several hours before the apostle reappeared 
with a quiet joy in his face. Onesimus was not seen 
again till the next day. When he did limp forth, 
however, leaning on his staff, Paul introduced him 
to Aristarchus and Epaphras in these words: 
“Brethren, this is Onesimus, Christ’s freedman.” 

And so the mighty chain, the links of which were 
selfishness, pride, lust and ambition; the mighty 
chain which had been riveted to the soul of Onesi- 
mus through nearly thirty years of ever-tightening 
bondage, was broken. The fetters fell from off his 


312 


ONESIMUS 


hands, and the lover of freedom walked at liberty, 
because he kept the divine precepts. 

Onesimus was very happy. It seemed to him as 
if he loved the hard-hearted shop-keepers of the 
Vicus Tuscus; the half -clad beggar boys who 
clamored on the street; and even the masterless 
dogs which growled in the gutter. Most of all, he 
loved the company of the Christians, and was ready 
to listen for hours while Paul prayed or spoke. His 
wound was now nothing more than a great red scar, 
and his strength and appetite had returned. He 
seemed like a new man. But, if his body was 
improved, it was merely the external sign of an 
internal fact ; for his heart was singing all the time. 

Onesimus was very happy, but he was also very 
humble. As one, with his feet on a rock, just res- 
cued from the quicksand, is very happy, although 
ashamed of the dirt on his person, and mindful of 
the slough whence he was delivered ; so was Onesi- 
mus. He felt keenly the disgrace of his sins and 
the power of evil habit. He mourned for the mur- 
der of Manes more than before ; and the kindness of 
Paul, who now knew that once he had attempted his 
life, quite overcame him. Only after some weeks 
did he stammeringly confess Christ in the assembly ; 
and three months of careful instruction, and earnest, 
prayerful study passed before he could bring himself 
to enter the waters of baptism. Nor was this time 
wasted by any means ; for when he sat down at the 
Lord’s table he was able to express intelligently a 
reason for the hope which was in him. 

The weeks that followed his baptism were the 


FREEDOM AT LAST 


313 


happiest Onesimus had known in his whole life. To 
sit with the manacled Paul during the early hours of 
a spring morning, and drink in the word of truth, 
even as Mary, years before, had sat at the Master’s 
feet in distant Palestine, was to him a delight and 
an inspiration for the day. To spend the middle 
hours of the day engaged in honorable toil with the 
brethren, that he might not be chargeable to any, 
was also his pleasure. The centurion, Julius, had 
obtained work for the little company in the making 
of tents for the Roman army. Onesimus, while his 
hands were busy on the coarse canvas, working for 
his support and for the common fund, found his 
mind and heart fully employed also. To walk the 
streets of the mighty capital arm in arm with Tychi- 
cus, a bearer of the gospel of freedom, was to com- 
plete a day of happiness. 

The brethren watched the change in Onesimus, 
and were happy in his joy. 

One day, when Timothy had returned from a 
preaching tour among the laborers of the fossae, 
having left Onesimus there to teach a class of horny- 
handed sons of toil, he remarked to Paul, “Father, 
the power of Christ in that slave is wonderful. I 
never supposed he had such a gift to teach. At 
Ephesus he was morose and dogged, and so he was 
here at first. Now grace is in his heart, and words 
of grace are upon his tongue.” 

“I know it,” replied the elder man joyfully. 
“Onesimus is his name — Profitable — and profitable 
is he to me for the gospel. When we were in Asia 
I recognized his superior qualities, but they were 


314 


ONESIMUS 


dwarfed and suppressed, until he was converted. I 
thank God when I behold young men like yourself, 
my son Timothy, and Onesimus growing up to take 
the places of us who have labored in laying the 
foundations of Christ’s building. ‘Instead of the 
fathers shall be the children whom thou mayest 
make princes in all the earth. ’ ’ ’ 

“God grant, O Father,’’ said the youth, “that you 
and the other apostles may live to see the walls of 
the building far above the ground ; or even to see 
the coming of the Lord himself. We would rather 
labor under your direction.” 

“My trial cannot now be long delayed,” replied 
Paul, as if musing to himself; “and whether the 
issue be for life or for death, it is in God’s hands. 
I have a presentiment, however, that it shall be for 
life, and that I shall again freely preach the gospel 
for which I am now an ambassador in bonds. But 
the outcome is doubtful, and I may never again see 
the churches which are in Asia. And since, if con- 
demned, I may not have time nor opportunity to 
send them a last message, I have decided to send 
such letters at once. The word that came recently, 
while encouraging in many respects, still contained 
statements which made me anxious. Archippus 
wrote from Colosse that a Jewish Christian had 
come there, who was preaching another gospel, by 
which Christ is dishonored and men are brought into 
bondage to the letter. I fear the effect of such 
teaching, especially among the Colossians, for I 
know the Phrygian character is prone to fanaticism. 
I have therefore decided to write a letter to the 


FREEDOM AT LAST 


315 


church at Colosse, and one to the Church at Ephesus 
and the surrounding towns. Tychicus, who is about 
to return to Asia' bearing the news of Epaphras* 
imprisonment, can carry them.” 

“It is well, Father,” replied Timothy; “shall I 
get you the writing materials?” 

And so, when the disciples gathered for their 
usual evening conference, and to wish God-speed to 
Tychicus, who was to start the next day, Timothy 
excused the absence of Paul, saying, “He is very 
busy writing messages to the churches which are in 
Asia. ’ ’ 

While Luke, Demas, Justus, Aristarchus, Mark, 
Epaphras and the others were engaged in conver- 
sation, the light in the inner chamber streamed over 
the silver locks of the great apostle, and upon the 
papyrus sheets before him ; on which were written 
those words which the church has kept among her 
treasures ever since. 

“I have finished,” said he, as he re-entered the 
larger apartment; “but there is another matter 
which has been on my mind for some time, and of 
which I feel constrained to speak. Our brother 
Onesimus has never been legally freed from Phile- 
mon. And in the days of his ignorance, when he 
fled from his master’s service, he took with him a 
large sum of money which has never been returned. 
Is it not our Christian duty to part with him, dear 
as he is to us; that he may return to his master and 
right an old wrong? What do you think of it, 
Onesimus?” 

The eyes of the young man filled with tears and 


3i6 


ONESIMUS 


he answered softly, “I knew what you were going 
to say, O Father, for at several times the matter has 
troubled me. To-day it has been especially upon 
my mind. I will return with Tychicus, into bond- 
age, according to the flesh; but not, thank God, 
into bondage of the spirit ; for Christ has freed me 
from that. ’ ’ 

“Onesimus a slave again!” broke in Epaphras, 
when he comprehended the trend of the conversa- 
tion. ‘‘None whom Christ makes free should be 
servants to men. So I thought when I gave Tychi- 
cus his liberty.” 

“I doubt not,” answered Paul, “that his bondage 
will be short, for Philemon and Apphia are true 
Christians. But without their will, we should do 
nothing, that their kindness may not be of con- 
straint, but voluntary. Onesimus has proved him- 
self a freeman, in his obedience to duty, even 
though it makes him again a slave. I will go aside, 
however, and write a short letter to Philemon, 
which Onesimus may present when he arrives at 
the house of his master.” 

That night when the brethren had retired to rest, 
Onesimus, having hastily prepared the few articles 
necessary for his journey, sat upon the side of his 
couch. Evidently the old struggle was renewed in 
his soul, for although he now belonged to Christ, 
he was not yet beyond the region of battles. To 
return to his master, whom he had defrauded and 
wronged; perhaps to be a slave; could he do it? It 
was the crisis of his life. If he yielded to his feel- 
ings and refused, the enemy, issuing forth from this 


FREEDOM AT LAST 


317 


fortress, would again overrun his whole soul. If 
he proved his freedom from the dominion of desire, 
by obedience to this command of Christ, the last 
hostile stronghold in his heart would have sur- 
rendered, and henceforth he would be free indeed. 
The conflict was severe for a time. He raised his 
eyes — shining with the light of victory. 

“Yes, because I am Christ’s freedman, I can, if 
necessary, be Philemon's slave.’’ 

By his side was a traveling case, partly packed, 
but yet open. In it lay three letters, unsealed, all 
written by the hand of Paul, one to the Church of 
Ephesus, one to the Church of Colosse, and one to 
Philemon. Paul had told Onesimus he might read 
them if he wished. He now picked up the letter 
to the Colossians. Could we hold those priceless 
autograph manuscripts in our hands, as Onesimus 
did that night, the universities of Europe and Amer- 
ica would mortgage all their endowments to buy the 
treasure, but we cannot. We can, however, look 
over the shoulder of the slave and read with him. 
He has nearly finished the letter to Colosse as we 
glance at it, so that we only read the closing sen- 
tences : 

‘ ‘All my affairs shall Tychicus make known unto you, the 
beloved brother and faithful minister and fellow-servant in the 
Lord: whom I have sent unto you for this very purpose, that 
ye may know our estate, and that he may comfort your hearts; 
together with Onesimus, the faithful and beloved brother, who 
is one of you. They shall make known unto you all things 
that are done here. 

“Aristarchus, my fellow-prisoner saluteth you, and Mark the 
cousin of Barnabas (touching whom ye received command- 


3i8 


ONESIMUS 


ments; if he come unto you, receive him), and Jesus which is 
called Justus, who are of the circumcision: these only are my 
fellow-workers unto the kingdom of God, men that have been 
a comfort unto me. Epaphras, who is one of you, a servant of 
Jesus Christ, saluteth you, always striving for you in his 
prayers, that ye may stand perfect and fully assured in all the 
will of God. ^r I bear him witness, that he hath much labor 
for you, and for them in Laodicea, and for them in Hieropolis. 
Luke, the beloved physician, and Demas, salute you. Salute 
the brethren that are in Laodicea, and Nymphas, and the 
church that is in their house. And when this epistle hath been 
read among you, cause that it be read also in the church of the 
Laodiceans ; and that ye also read the epistle from Laodicea. 
And say to Archippus, Take heed to the ministry which thou 
hast received in the Lord that thou fulfill it. 

“The salutation of me, Paul, with mine own hand. Remem- 
ber my bonds. Grace be with you. “ 

Onesimus laid doTvn the letter to the home church, 
and began to read the letter to his old master, con- 
cerning himself. We have read the words before, 
but perhaps they have a clearer meaning, as we 
read them now: 

“Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus, and Timothy, our brother, 
to Philemon our beloved and fellow- worker, and to Apphia, our 
sister, and to Archippus, our fellow-soldier, and to the church 
in thy house. Grace to you and peace from God our Father 
and the Lord Jesus Christ. 

“I thank my God always, making mention of thee in my 
prayers, hearing of thy love, and of the faith which thou hast 
toward the Lord Jesus, and toward all the saints; that the 
fellowship of thy faith may become effectual, in the knowledge 
of every good thing which is in you, unto Christ. For I had 
much joy and comfort in thy love, because the hearts of the 
saints have been refreshed through thee, brother. 

“Wherefore, though I have all boldness in Christ to enjoin 
thee that which is befitting, yet for love’s sake I rather 


FREEDOM AT LAST 


319 


beseech, being such a one as Paul the aged, and now a pris- 
oner also of Christ Jesus. I beseech thee for my child, whom 
I have begotten in my bonds, Onesimus, who was aforetime 
unprofitable to thee, but is now profitable to thee and me: 
whom I have sent back to thee in his own person, that is, my 
very heart : Whom I would fain have kept with me, that in thy 
behalf he might minister unto me in the bonds of the gospel : 
but without thy mind I would do nothing ; that thy goodness 
should not be of necessity, but of free will. For perhaps he 
was therefore parted from thee for a season,that thou shouldest 
have him forever; no longer as a servant, but more than a 
servant, a brother beloved, specially to me, but how much 
rather to thee, both in the flesh and in the Lord. If then thou 
countest me a partner, receive him as myself. But if he hath 
wronged thee at all, or oweth thee aught, put that to my 
account: I, Paul, write it with mine own hand, I will repay 
it: that I say not unto thee how that thou owest to me even 
thine own self besides. Yea, brother, let me have joy of thee 
in the Lord: refresh my heart in Christ. Having confidence 
in thine obedience I write unto thee, knowing that thou wilt 
do even beyond what I say. But withal prepare me also a 
lodging: for I hope that through your prayers I shall be 
granted unto you. 

“Epaphras, my fellow-prisoner in Christ Jesus, saluteth thee ; 
and so do Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, Luke, my fellow- 
workers. 

“The ’grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit 

Amen/’ 


t 


CHAPTER XXIV 

AT COLOSSE ONCE MORE 

Theodoret says that the house of Philemon at 
Colosse was still standing in the fifth Christian cen- 
tury. A structure which could withstand the tooth 
of time for four centuries, would hardly be made 
perceptively older by the passage of nine short 
years. It was in the year A. D. 54 that we were 
first introduced to the household of Philemon, and 
now time’s revolving circle has brought us to mid- 
summer of 63. 

The same low whitened wall, unbroken by win- 
dows without, greeted the eye with a sense of dreary 
monotony as one ascended the steep street to the 
portal. Within, a decade of years, years momen- 
tous to the world and the kingdom of God, seemed 
to have made no change. There were the master’s 
apartments on the left and the slaves’ quarters on 
the right as of old. All was as before. Ah ! no, 
there was a slight difference. Where the statues of 
Greek deities once stood, in the niches of the wall, 
were now pots of living plants; and where there 
was previously a small altar before the shrine of the 
household gods, was now a simple marble cross. 
Several slaves were in sight, cheerfully busy. 

Within the court of the women’s apartments, at 
the door of the chief chamber, sat a woman past 
middle life, clad in snowy white. By her side was 
a box of rolls, and from one of them she was read- 
320 


AT COLOSSE ONCE MORE 


321 


ing. That classic Greek face, once seen, could not 
be forgotten, for it was Apphia, wife of Philemon, 
and mistress of the house. Age had begun to plow 
its furrows down those beautiful cheeks, but it could 
not dim the light which shone through the soul’s 
windows, revealing the illumination within. Ever 
and again she lifted her eyes from the roll to watch 
with fond interest the sport of a child, some five 
years of age, who was sailing a miniature ship upon 
the waters of the stone tank in the midst of the 
court. 

“Oh, grandmother,’’ cried he, his face turned 
toward Apphia, “the galley on which Paul was com- 
ing here upset, and he fell into the water. ’ ’ 

“No, no, my foolish Paul,’’ cried the lady play- 
fully, “your are too late with your omens of ill. 
The galley on which he sailed is even now at 
Ephesus; and, ere sunset, I hope you may see the 
great man after whom your are named.’’ 

“Tell me about him, grandmother,’’ said the boy, 
forgetting the catastrophe to the shipping in the 
tank, as he nestled in Apphia’s arms. “Is he a 
great man like the giant we saw in the forum the 
other day? All the boys ran after him. He wore 
a red cap and black boots. ’ ’ 

“No, dear, the apostle is not a large man in size, 
not so large as your father or uncle Archippus. We 
call him great because of what he has done in the 
name of Christ.’’ 

“Then is not uncle Archippus a great man also? 
for he preaches and baptizes people in Jesus’ name. 
That is what you say the apostle does.” 


322 


ONESIMUS 


“Your uncle is a good man, Paul; and I trust he 
is great in the sight of the Lord; but Paul is greater 
than he.” 

“Tell me about him?” urged the child. 

“Soon after the Lord Jesus rose from the dead 
and went to heaven, there was a great persecution 
against his disciples.” 

“Persecution, what is that?” 

“A persecution,” answered Apphia, feeling for 
words to make her meaning simple, “is a time when 
bad people arrest, put in prison, and sometimes 
kill, good people, because they worship the true 
God and Jesus Christ whom he has sent.” 

“I know,” cried Paul, “I heard father and grand- 
father talking about the persecution at Pergamos. ” 

“Yes, that was a persecution, and a sad one for 
the Church,” answered Apphia, “the time that 
Antipas sealed his testimony with his blood. Well, 
many years ago, when your father was a little boy 
like you, and your mother was not yet born, Paul 
persecuted the Christians. He went to the city of 
Damascus to arrest them and to bring them bound 
to Jerusalem to be punished. On the way the Lord 
Jesus met him shining with a light brighter than 
the sun. When Paul had fallen from his horse, he 
said, ‘Paul, Paul, why persecutest thou me?’ He 
then told him that he must be a Christian, and 
preach the gospel to the ends of the earth. ’ ’ 

“And did he do it?” asked Paul deeply interested. 

“He is doing it now, my child, and it was through 
him that your father and mother, your grandfather 
and myself were all converted. God gives the 


AT COLOSSE ONCE MORE 


323 


apostle power to work miracles at times, and so 
Paul raised your uncle up from his death-bed, and 
restored him to us. ’ ’ 

Just at that moment there came a cry of joy from 
the roof, “Oh, mother, I see him! I see him! 
Nymphas has crossed the bridge on his white horse! 
He said he would ride ahead to let us know they 
were nearly here. ’ ’ 

Before the words were uttered, Menodora 
appeared at the foot of the stair. She had been a 
beautiful girl, she was now a beautiful woman. 

“Run, tell your grandfather, child,” exclaimed 
Apphia, dropping Paul from her lap, “he is at his 
devotions in his own chamber.” 

Soon after the stamping of hoofs without an- 
nounced the arrival of a horseman, and Nymphas 
entered, tall and noble, such a man as a sculptor 
might choose for his model of a god. 

“I joined them,” said he in response to his wife’s 
question, “as they passed through Laodicea. There 
were four of them, Paul, Epaphras, Timothy and 
Luke. They will be here directly, ’ ’ kissing his wife 
and swinging the delighted Paul upon his shoulder. 
“I left Archippus, Onesimus and Tychicus to escort 
them, while I hastened on to inform you. Is every- 
thing prepared?” 

“We are all ready,” replied the house- wifely 
Menodora. “Supper is waiting on the roof this 
beautiful summer evening. Did the apostle look as 
he used to? Only think, dear, we have not seen 
him since the night we were married seven years 
ago.” 


324 


ONESIMUS 


“The same light is in his eyes, and the same 
glorious expression on his face, as of old; but he 
has aged a good deal and is somewhat broken. Luke 
informed me that the two years of enforced idleness 
at Caesarea told on him severely. And his ship- 
wreck on the way to Rome was a hard experience. 
The three years at Rome were not easy. You must 
remember that he has just passed through the anxi- 
eties of a tedious trial. ’ ’ 

“Through whose aid was he acquitted?” asked 
Apphia. 

“Through God’s aid,” answered Nymphas, rever- 
ently. “But the secondary reason was the whim of 
the emperor. The Jews failed entirely to establish 
their case, but they confidently relied on intrigue 
with Poppaea, Nero’s mistress. He is greatly influ- 
enced by her. That day Nero was in a pet and 
asked whether they supposed that a band of priests 
and a woman controlled his opinions. So Paul 
escaped.” 

“He must have made a quick journey,” said 
Menodora. 

“Yes, he came into Macedonia by way of Apol- 
lonia and the Via Egnatia to Philippi. The breth- 
ren there would have detained him, but he hastened 
on to Ephesus, and so is here at last.” 

“I am glad our home is to entertain such a guest, ” 
said Apphia, “and I hope he will remain long with 
us, and rest from his labors and trials. ’ ’ 

“To-night,” said Menodora, in a businesslike 
way, “he is to be our private guest, and to-morrow 
Archippus desires to confer with him concerning 


AT COLOSSE ONCE MORE 


335 

the welfare of our church. After that I suppose he 
will not have a moment to himself. ’ ’ 

“How like old times it will be,” mused Nymphas, 
“for all of us to sit down together as in our student 
days.” 

“Better than old times,” whispered Menodora 
softly, laying her hand on her husband’s shoulder, 
“for then I did not have you, dear.” 

“Yes,” answered he kindly, “better for us and 
for all the world, for Christ’s kingdom has grown 
much since then. Onesimus and many others are 
our brethren now who were not so at that time.” 

“Was Onesimus glad to see Paul?” broke in 
Apphia. 

“Glad to see him? I should say so. He is more 
grateful than any other man I ever saw. All the 
way, as we rode to meet him, he kept repeating 
that, under Christ, he owed him his liberty. ’ ’ 

“Onesimus was never intended by nature to be a 
slave,” replied Apphia. “But I am glad that 
when he returned to his old bondage, and we 
rewarded him by giving him his liberty, he had 
already found freedom in Christ. ’ ’ 

Nymphas answered : “If he had not obtained it, 
I do not think that Paul could ever have persuaded 
him to return the many miles from Rome to Colosse 
to be a slave again. I never heard of one enduring 
a greater test than that. Naturally one so soundly 
converted has become one of the most useful mem- 
bers of the church. Archippus tells me that he 
never supposed that he had the making of such a 
man in him. He is eloquent in speech, fervent in 


ONESIMUS 


326 

spirit, and mighty in the Scriptures. Above all, he 
is filled with the Holy Ghost and qualified for every 
good work. But here they come, ’ ’ as the sound of 
many feet, of the bustling slaves and stamping 
horses was heard without. 

It was a delightful evening in midsummer and 
the full moon shone down on the white -spread table 
placed upon the roof of the house of Philemon. 
Seldom during the first century was there gathered 
together a more representative company of Chris- 
tians than reclined at that banquet. Under a shim- 
mer of golden light lay the flat roofs and narrow 
dark streets of the ancient town. Far away the 
great mountain walls stood dimly visible, the boun- 
dary of the world of sight. Very far away seemed 
the tinkle of evening bells, the cry of children at 
play, and the echo of feet upon the pavement below. 
The great gaudy world of sin and misery, so full 
of discord and the cry of war, seemed but a mem- 
ory. Even as the chosen three found it good to be 
upon the mount of transfiguration with the Lord, 
so did these find it good to shut out the great world 
in which they lived but to which they did not 
belong. It was a world in whose corruption they 
were as salt, in whose darkness they were as light ; 
a world destined to destroy them, but which they 
would conquer in their death. 

Philemon, grown gray, but still hearty, occupied 
the place of host. By his side sat Apphia, for 
Christianity had brought husband and wife together 
at the Lord’s table, and so at the home banquet. 
Archippus grave with the responsibilities of the 



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AT COLOSSE ONCE MORE 


327 


pastorate of the church of Colosse, was on the other 
side of his father. Next to him were Menodora and 
Nymphas. Epaphras, bishop of Laodicea, was 
beside him, for he and Nymphas were bound 
together by the close ties of interest in the same 
church. Luke, the beloved physician, sat next, and 
Timothy, the evangelist. Tychicus, the freedman, 
sat opposite his former master. And Onesimus, no 
longer dogged and sullen, but with a face which 
true freedom had absolutely transfigured, sat next 
to him. Not now was it Onesimus the unprofitable, 
but Onesimus the profitable for the gospel. At the 
end of the table reclined that man who more truly 
than any other, except his Master, belongs to no 
one age or country, for all claim him, Paul, the 
apostle to the Gentiles. 

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus 
Christ, who according to his mercy hath called us 
from the east and from the west to sit together 
again, ’ ’ said the apostle as he took his seat. This 
banquet is a type of the great feast in our Father’s 
house above. ’ ’ 

“Yea, Father,’’ replied his host, “I hear to-night 
the voice of the Master calling to you who are worn 
in his service, ‘Come thou into a desert place and 
rest awhile.’ I see in this period of calm, after 
years of persecution, and before renewed labor, a 
type of the rest which remaineth for the people of 
God. Happy am I that the call to you comes 
through me. ’ ’ 

“To-morrow, O Father,’’ said Archippus, “I wish 
to consult with you concerning the welfare of the 


328 


ONESIMUS 


Colossian Church, and in the evening I have invited 
the elders to meet with you. But to-night is 
devoted to the refreshment of your body after the 
toils of the long journey, and for the heart converse 
of those long sundered.” 

“Your kindness is truly Christian, my son,” 
replied Paul. “I am weary with the journey and I 
wish to know of our friends of other days, our 
brethren in Christ Jesus. We heard at Ephesus of 
the death of the beloved Asiarch, Glaukos, but had 
not time to hear the particulars. ’ ’ 

Archippus answered, “Glaukos was the same in 
life and death, ever modest and unassuming, every 
faithful and willing. Day by day his hands were 
full of deeds of kindness to the brethren, the one 
not knowing what the other did. And so, one day 
last year, he heard the story of an oppressed slave, 
through his servant Philo. It was a cold stormy 
day and he was indisposed. Ordering his litter he 
braved the storm to purchase the freedom of the 
oppressed. That night he was taken with a fever 
and the next day he sank rapidly. Too hoarse to 
speak he submitted quietly to all the efforts of his 
weeping servants. As Philo bent his ear to catch 
his whisper, he said, ‘My doubts are gone, heavep 
is opening,’ and he was not, for God had translated 
him. The whole Church was profoundly sorrowful. 
But he being dead yet speaketh. When his will was 
read, after some personal bequests, of which I sent 
word to Epaphras as his heir, he left his whole 
great property for the care of orphan children, of 
whom there are so many in Ephesus. No such will 


AT COLOSSE ONCE MORE 


329 


was ever signed in Ephesus before, and it made a 
great talk among the heathen. ’ ’ 

‘T understand,” remarked Philemon, “that the 
priests of Diana were driven by public opinion to 
devote a portion of their treasure for the same pur- 
pose, a thing which had never been thought of 
until that time. ’ ’ 

Epaphras brushed away a tear as he said, ‘‘It 
shall be one of the greatest purposes of my life to 
develop this charity which my good father, by 
adoption, left under my care. To his memory and 
for Christ’s glory the funds shall be used.” 

“So by life and death Christ is glorified,” replied 
Paul, “and I therein rejoice.” 

“I have often wondered concerning the sophist 
Tyrannus,” said Luke. “How near he was to the 
kingdom of heaven! With what interest he saw 
others enter it! And yet he passed not in himself. 
Can any one tell how he now fares?” 

“Alas, my old teacher!” replied Archippus, “I 
know by experience that it must be philosophy or 
Christ. They cannot be together. Christ said 
‘Whosoever humbleth not himself as a little child 
he shall in no case enter therein. ’ Since Tyrannus 
would not humble himself he must needs remain 
without. After the Christians ceased to meet in his 
school he became irregular in attendance upon the 
assembly of the saints, and at last he came not at 
all. He who once, in his search for the highest 
good, nearly found it in Christ, is now an absolute 
Epicurean, to whom baths, women and wine are 
the end of all life. ’ ’ 


330 


ONESIMUS 


“How much his case is like that of my poor father 
after the flesh,” sighed Epaphras. “He too has 
heard the gospel and with tears has been implored 
to accept it, but he hardens his heart. To-day he 
is an old man, upon the verge of eternity, but he 
still resists. Although I am so near him, I would 
be driven with curses from his door if I sought to 
approach him as a son.” 

“Christ said,” rejoined Paul, “ ‘I came to set a 
man against his father’, and ‘he that loveth father 
or mother more than me is not worthy of me. ’ This 
has been a severe trial to you, more severe on 
account of your loving disposition. Nobly have 
you borne it. Yours is the reward of those who 
forsake father and mother for his sake.” 

“While you are speaking of those who reject 
Christ I wish to tell how it fares with those who 
persecute him, ’ ’ remarked Onesimus. “When I was 
in Ephesus, on my return to my master from Rome, 
I desired to learn something of Alexander the Jew, 
and Demetrius the silversmith. ’ ’ 

At the mention of that name a shudder passed 
over Menodora, but she bent her head to listen. 

“You have all heard how in the days of my bond- 
age to sin they made me twice a slave. Naturally 
I was curious to learn something of my old foes. I 
confess to a feeling of fear when I found myself in 
the same city with them.” 

“Tell us of them,” spoke several of the guests at 
once. 

‘The shop of Demetrius was closed and to let, 
but I passed the abode of Alexander in the evening 


AT COLOSSE ONCE MORE 


331 


and saw it brilliantly lighted. From the Christians 
of Ephesus I learned that the business of the image- 
maker continued to decline until he was unable to 
meet his obligations. Alexander was his principal 
creditor and he seized all his property, leaving 
Demetrius penniless. He wandered about for a 
time, but one morning his body was found floating 
in the harbor basin. Whether he was drowned by 
accident, or whether he committed suicide, will 
never be known. Alexander, however, has pros- 
pered as the wicked sometimes prosper for a season. 
He was angered by the disgrace of his daughter 
when she fell into open sin. But when he found 
that it was profitable, for the damsel was very fair, 
he was somewhat pacified. To-day the brethren 
tell me he is the most bitter of all the enemies of 
the saints in Ephesus. ’ ’ 

Paul answered, “Alexander the coppersmith did 
me much evil, the Lord will reward him according 
to his works. ’ ’ 

The conversation was interrupted at this point by 
a golden-haired child, who, coming up the stair, 
walked unabashed to the divan on which the apostle 
reclined. He gravely said, “Are you the great Paul 
after whom I am named?” 

Menodora sprang up blushing and would have led 
her child away, but Paul replied, as he lifted him 
to his shoulder, “Yes, my boy. God grant that as 
you are named from me you may be one of those to 
take the burden up when I have laid it down.” 

The infant Paul was content upon his new throne. 

The apostle continued, “Brethren, it is the influ- 


332 


ONESIMUS 


ence of the babe of Bethlehem which gives freedom 
and joy to such a child as this.” 

“Not to children only but to us their mothers,” 
replied Menodora, still standing with proud, happy 
eyes before the divan of the two Pauls. 

“Not only to women and children but to us men 
as well,” remarked the noble Nymphas. 

“And most of all to such as I,” said Onesimus 
slowly and with evident emotion. “I, who was 
once Onesimus the slave, first of Philemon, and then 
in a lower bondage to my own passions, am now the 
freedman of Jesus Christ.” 

Paul’s answer still rings through the ages, “Stand 
fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath 
made you free, and be not entangled again with the 
yoke of bondage.” 













OCT 11 1900 




